


Falling for the First Time

by velocitygrass



Series: Life-Changing Encounters [7]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Coming Out, Dysfunctional Family, Father-Son Relationship, First Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 15:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4484623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velocitygrass/pseuds/velocitygrass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is confused about his sexuality when the new guy at school befriends him. This fic follows his journey as his relationship with Rodney develops from friendship into more and as John struggles with his father, his sexual orientation, coming out, and ultimately his future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling for the First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Niffer for the beta!

"Yes?" Mrs. Reynolds asked.

John opened his eyes, wondering who of the others in his class would ask her something before the lesson, when he saw that she was looking at the door where a gangly dark-blonde boy stood.

"Mr. Brown sent me here," the boy said. The name of the principal caused a few whispers, then the boy added, "I just moved here."

There were sounds of disappointment. Just a new kid. Nothing _interesting_.

"Come in," Mrs. Reynolds said. "Your name is?"

"Rodney," the boy said so quickly that John raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Rodney McKay."

"Take any of the free seats, Mr. McKay," Mrs. Reynolds said. "And stay after class so that we can discuss what we've done so far."

McKay nodded, quickly scanning the room and evaluating the four free seats. Janice quickly threw her jacket on Kaitlynn's seat—her friend had come down with the flu—and Mark only gave McKay a threatening look. One of the other free seats was next to John. McKay's eyes locked with John's for a second. John made no point of looking inviting or discouraging, but it seemed to be enough for McKay to shuffle into the seat next to John's.

John glanced over as McKay dropped his backpack and got out a thick notebook and pencil-case. McKay looked over to him, and John quickly turned back to the board. He wasn't all that interested in biology, but there was no reason to believe McKay would be more interesting.

~~

It turned out that McKay had quite a few classes with John. He appeared to be a quiet type, but John quickly revised his opinion two days later in math class.

Mr. Fiddler was well-meaning, but not very good at explaining the material, mostly because he didn't understand what in particular a student didn't get. People had taken to just letting it go when he gave one of his less than helpful answers and to ask around after class.

McKay hadn't gotten that memo, and when Mr. Fiddler's answer had little to do with the question, Rodney looked around as if gaging if he was the only who'd noticed that fact. Someone just shook their head as a sign to not even try, but to John's surprise McKay spoke up without even raising his hand.

"That's fine and well but doesn't answer his question."

"Oh," Mr. Fiddler said. He turned to the student who'd asked the question.

"Uh," the guy stammered. He obviously didn't know whether to lie or admit that McKay was right.

"What he really wanted to know was _why_ you'd use a quadratic function here," McKay said.

The whole class looked from McKay to Mr. Fiddler, but before he could attempt to process the question, McKay went on to answer the question, though it had definite undertones of insults for not realizing how obvious it was.

John didn't necessarily disagree but was still surprised the new kid would say so—or at least imply—in front of their teacher no less. His impression that McKay was shy went out the window. When McKay stopped his rant, everyone was staring at him, including Mr. Fiddler. The whole class held their breath as they waited for a response.

"Does this answer your question?" Mr. Fiddler asked the boy who'd asked.

The guy had shrunk in his seat. "Uh, yeah."

"Thank you, Mr. McKay," Mr. Fiddler said, then went on with the lesson.

John looked over to McKay, who'd gone back to scribbling in his notebook. Maybe the new guy was more interesting than John had thought.

~~

A week later John poked at his fish sticks when a tray slammed on the table in front of him and McKay slid onto the seat behind it.

He hadn't exchanged a single word with McKay so far, so John hadn't expected this. There were plenty of free seats around, so it wasn't that either.

McKay dug in as if they always ate together. "I need your notes from some of our classes," he said around a forkful of mashed potatoes.

John raised an eyebrow. " _My_ notes," he said.

"Well, technically notes by anyone who bothers to actually take some," McKay said, "but we share all the classes where I'll need notes and you don't sleep through class except for American Lit, which... No one could blame you for that."

That kind of made sense, but it still bothered John that McKay thought he'd just fork over his notes to a guy who hadn't said two words to him before asking, no, _demanding_ them. "What if I need to review something in my notes?" he asked.

McKay rolled his eyes. "Give me one subject at a time. Let's not pretend that you sit at home studying all night long."

"You wouldn't know if I did," John pointed out.

"But I know that even if you did, you'd pretend not to," McKay said. "How about history first? Chop, chop." He made a motion with his hand for John to hand over the notes.

"I'm eating right now," John said.

"No, you're not. You're pushing your food around the plate," McKay said, following the path John's fork made with his eyes until John abruptly stopped. "If you don't want your fishstick I'll take it," McKay piped up. He made a move with his fork, but John lifted his own threateningly and glared at McKay.

McKay's weirdly skewed mouth became even more slanted, but his fork retreated back to his own plate.

John finished his lunch in silence, while McKay stuffed the food in his mouth so fast that he was done at the same time. "Would you _kindly_ give me your history notes now?" McKay asked after he'd set down his fork.

"Too bad I don't have my golf club with me," John mumbled.

McKay grinned. "Come on, Jack. I promise, I'm not your daddy, big or otherwise."

John wasn't sure if McKay had meant to put innuendo in that phrase or just went with the obvious BioShock references. Either way, he couldn't believe McKay would actually come on to him. John didn't think Tom had told anyone about what had happened, and it wasn't as if McKay had become fast friends with anyone as far as he could tell. Not that he was surprised after coming into contact with McKay's particular "charm".

John dug in his backpack and got out his history notes. "I want them back in order and complete," John said. He didn't hand them over until McKay promised with another eyeroll.

"See you in math," McKay said and was off. John looked after him, wondering what to make of McKay.

~~

John was pretty early for class the next day, so he decided to sneak up on McKay when he was at his locker.

"Jesus!" McKay jumped when John materialized next to the locker after he closed the door.

John wanted to grin, but kept his face cool. "My notes?" he asked, holding out his hand.

McKay made a face but pulled a set of notes out of his backpack. "Complete and in order," he said as he handed them over to John.

John made a point of leafing through them just to piss off McKay when he suddenly saw some scribbles that were definitely not in his own handwriting. "What the hell," he said. He kept going through the notes, finding more of—presumably—McKay's notes. He stopped to read some of them. They were corrections and clarifications and sometimes just comments. He stared at McKay. "What did you do with my notes?"

"Is that a trick question?" McKay asked.

"McKay," John said threateningly, building himself up to his full height to be able to look down at McKay.

McKay crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Excuse me for trying to help you. Would you prefer if I didn't correct your mistakes?"

"I'm pretty damn good at taking notes. I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that I did not mishear the teacher _every other page_ ," John said, getting in McKay's face at the last words.

McKay stood his ground. "Well, then maybe they're the teacher's mistakes! Wouldn't be the first time I corrected those."

"Well, if they _think_ it's wrong, they're gonna _mark_ it as wrong," John said. He didn't get McKay. Had this guy not _been_ at a school where he'd come from? "If you know everything already, why did you even bother asking for my notes?"

McKay's answer was pre-empted by the bell.

"We'll talk about this later!" John told him, then went off, not waiting for McKay to follow.

~~

During class John went over McKay's notes. History wasn't John's favorite subject, but he was pretty sure that some of the things McKay wrote had never come up in class. Some of it was just commentary as if McKay felt the need to share his opinions or thought that John would care. John didn't, though he had to admit that McKay's comments were interesting, often even amusing. Though he could really do without McKay's comments on his handwriting. It wasn't as if his scribbles were that much easier to read.

McKay joined him after class and continued their conversation as if they'd never stopped. "I only asked because I want to know exactly what we'll be expected to know."

"You know more than enough," John said, thinking about some of McKay's comments.

"I didn't actually _know_ all of what I added," McKay said. "I looked up a few things, and while I was at it, I thought I'd share."

"You're not even going to pretend that you didn't spend all night on this, are you?" John said.

"Why should I?" McKay asked. "It was one night to make up for half a year. If I spend two nights a year on a subject, that hardly makes me a geek. If I'd mind being called one in the first place. And I know about your grades, so don't try playing dumb."

"I don't go looking up obscure history facts in my spare time," John countered.

"I don't usually either. Now physics on the other hand..." McKay said, sounding almost dreamy.

John snorted and couldn't help smiling at McKay's shameless expression of his love for science.

McKay smiled back. "So biology next?" he asked, then made the motion with his hand again. "Chop chop."

"If you stop saying that," John said, making a grimace.

"My grandmother used to say that," McKay said.

"And I'm not your grandson," John said.

"Right, as we established yesterday, I'm not your father, you're not my grandson, let's get on with the notes. We need to get to the next class."

They didn't have the next class together, so John said, "They're in my locker. I'll get them before lunch. Meet me there."

"It's a date," McKay said and sauntered away.

"No, it isn't", John thought. McKay was weird. Interesting, but weird.

~~

"This caféteria is way too big," McKay said when he joined John and plopped down in front of him.

John thought it was pretty average but only shook his head to himself.

"You got your biology notes?" McKay asked.

"What biology notes?" John asked. McKay's mouth opened and he looked ready to rant, so John grinned.

"Ha ha, very funny," McKay said, as John pushed over the notes.

"Just ease off on the editorials. My writing is fine," John said.

"If you're gearing up to be a doctor maybe," McKay muttered, quickly scanning the notes. "If you'd rather not have any corrections, just say so."

John was torn. He actually enjoyed the comments McKay had left in his notes, but he didn't really want to admit it. McKay grinned smugly. "If you _must_ ," John said through clenched teeth.

"Hey, I'm not forcing my insights on you," McKay said. "I'll leave them out, unless..." He looked at John as if he knew exactly that John had enjoyed reading them but wouldn't ask.

"It's okay," John said quietly.

"Okay to make them or _not_ make them?" McKay pressed.

"Just do it!" John hissed.

McKay looked very self-satisfied as he leaned back. "If you insist," he said magnanimously.

"Did anyone ever tell you you're an ass?" John asked.

McKay's mouth thinned. "All the time," he said. "But mostly they're just jealous."

"Of what?" John asked.

"That I'm smarter, of course," McKay said as if John were dense.

"You didn't leave behind many friends when you moved here, did you?" John guessed.

"Friends are overrated," McKay said.

That explained quite a bit about him, John thought.

~~

John had made a point of not letting himself be pigeonholed. He played football, but didn't only hang out with the team. He joined the chess team sometimes and helped out the drama club with light, sound, or stage settings. He got along with just about any group at the school, but he didn't really _belong_ to any either—and that was the way he liked it.

It meant he was free to eat with whomever he felt like during lunch, or even sit alone if he didn't want companionship.

Until Rodney McKay had other ideas about that. What had begun as lending McKay his notes somehow ended with eating lunch with him every day and generally hanging out with him during breaks.

Even when John made a point of sitting with his team or the drama club, McKay just joined him either completely unaware or uncaring about high school etiquette. The strange thing was that nobody ever said anything. It was as if they all accepted that he tagged along with John, though John had never once said, or even implied, "He's with me."

It was a bit aggravating to be unable to get rid of McKay, but that was only the principle of the matter. John never told McKay to get lost—well, he did when they argued, but he was never serious—or gave a sign to others that he wanted to be rescued from McKay's presence.

The thing was he _liked_ Rodney.

The guy had no manners at all, an insufferable ego, was demanding and rude, but John still enjoyed pretty much any moment they spent together. He had no idea why. There were other guys and girls at school that were amusing or smart. But every time some of these other acquaintances had threatened to turn into a friendship, John had made himself scarce.

Not so with Rodney. Their relationship was a mystery to him, but John went with it, and when Rodney invited him home to study for a test one day, he didn't think anything of it to say yes.

Ms. Jenkins—Rodney had warned John not to call her Mrs. McKay—only glanced at them when they came in. Rodney's little sister was more curious. "Is this your new friend?" she asked when she saw them walking up to Rodney's room.

"Don't you have homework to do?" Rodney asked in return, not stopping.

"I'm already done," she called after them. "You didn't answer my question."

Rodney groaned in annoyance when he closed the door behind them, locking it. "Ugh. Do you have younger siblings?"

"Uh," John said. He'd managed not to talk about his family so far. But it would be weird to lie, so he simply said. "A younger brother."

"How much younger?" Rodney asked.

"Two years," John said.

"That sounds more reasonable," Rodney said. "Jeannie is even more clingy than she used to be before the divorce."

John didn't know what to say to that. All talk about family made him feel awkward. It didn't take a genius to read between the lines that the divorce of Rodney's parents must have been quite messy. But if Rodney didn't volunteer to talk about it, John certainly wasn't going to ask.

"You can drop your things anywhere you like," Rodney said.

The room wasn't exactly tidy. There were clothes, games, and books strewn about, though it wasn't so bad that you couldn't walk anywhere, and Rodney's desk was full, but usable. Rodney dropped his backpack next to the desk and sat down on the desk chair.

"I don't really want to go downstairs, so we can sit on the floor or the bed," he suggested.

"Okay," John said. It didn't really matter to him. Either place would be more comfortable than his own meticulously cleaned home, and there was no chance of his father knocking on the door, which was good enough for him.

Rodney pulled his notebook from his backpack, kicked off his sneakers, and sat down on the bed cross-legged. John did the same and let Rodney's words wash over him. He didn't know when it had become soothing to hear Rodney rant about their curriculum or their teachers, but at some point in the last weeks it had.

They eventually started actually studying, until Rodney's stomach growled and he said, "I need to eat. I can heat something up for both of us. Pizza okay?"

"Sure," John said. The idea of heating up a pizza for dinner was foreign to him, especially since Rodney's mom had been at home earlier. But he didn't ask.

"Do you need to call your folks or something?" Rodney asked on his way to the door.

"Uh, yeah, I probably should," John said. "Go ahead, I'll just call." He didn't know why, but he didn't want to talk to his father while Rodney was in the room.

For a moment John considered just calling their housekeeper directly, but his father would only accuse him of being a coward.

"Sheppard?" John's father picked up the phone as if he hadn't seen that it was his oldest son.

"It's John," John said, playing along. "I'm over at a friend's place. We're studying for a test. He's invited me for dinner so we can keep studying. I'll be home before 9." John held his breath waiting for his father's response.

"Who is this 'friend'?" his father asked. John could hear the quotes around the last word.

"He moved here a few weeks ago. His name is Rodney. He needed someone's notes to catch up, and we kind of became study buddies," John said. Then he waited for an answer. And waited. John was tempted to add, "We're not fucking if that's what you're thinking," but he wasn't going to give his father the satisfaction of not acting like an adult.

Eventually his father said, "9 o'clock," and hung up.

"Have a nice evening too, Dad," John said bitterly and put away his phone. He reviewed some of his notes to cool down until Rodney came back.

It only took a few minutes until Rodney entered, balancing two plates. "Your folks okay with you staying?" he asked.

"I said I'd be back by 9," John said.

"Are your parents strict?" Rodney asked.

John only shrugged. He wasn't touching that topic with a ten-foot pole. So he asked about the subject of their test tomorrow, distracting Rodney from asking about John's parents.

~~

When John came home that night—at 9 o'clock sharp—he expected his father to comment or ask about Rodney, but his father only nodded in acknowledgement, so John went upstairs glad to have dodged that bullet.

The next morning at breakfast, his father only greeted him and asked if he was prepared for the test.

"Yes, we _studied_ ," John said.

"That's good to hear," his father said with a tight smile.

John tensed as he waited for his father to say that his mother would be proud, but thankfully he didn't. John relaxed, and they finished breakfast in blissful silence.

After that day John continued to go to Rodney's place after school every now and then. He was a bit weirded out by how absent Rodney's mother was—even if she was in the house—but it was better than a mom hovering over her son's new friend and asking about his family.

Rodney didn't ask about John's family in a way that John couldn't shrug off. And John's father didn't ask about Rodney either, which actually annoyed John, though he supposed he should be glad about it.

The nicest thing about spending time with Rodney was that he liked to talk and didn't require you to talk in return. Rodney was perfectly happy rambling about school, or a book he'd read, or something that had happened to him back in Canada, or something that had recently annoyed him.

John only had to nod or "uh huh" in the right places and Rodney would go on, providing John with all the entertainment and distraction he could ever want. And if always hanging out together meant that people noticed, John was willing to pay that price. Since Rodney didn't belong to any group either, John still felt like he could comfortably occupy his spot of neutrality in the school hierarchy.

He sometimes got teased about Rodney, who'd taken to sitting in the bleachers studying during John's training, but it was all good-natured.

John had to admit that it gave him a warm feeling to see Rodney sitting there and waiting for him. John knew he only did it because of John. Rodney had made it no mystery at all what he thought about football as opposed to hockey. And sometimes when John looked up, he caught Rodney watching him. He wouldn't admit it under pain of death, but seeing Rodney doing a little wave with his hand at him made his heart clench in the best way.

John chose not to examine his feelings too closely. He still wasn't sure why he'd become friends with Rodney, but at this time there was no denying that they were friends.

It was during another training when John looked up at where Rodney usually sat in the bleachers, only to find someone else sitting next to him. His heart fell into his stomach when he recognized the other guy as Tom.

They seemed to be talking. John couldn't really see their faces clearly, but Rodney seemed slightly defensive. Oh god, what was Tom telling him? They had absolutely nothing to do with each other. They didn't share any classes, and Rodney's only connection to the drama club was claiming that his performance in a play back in his old school had been highly lauded, but that he preferred to concentrate on his even more pronounced scientific talent.

There was no reason at all for them to be talking.

"Sheppard! You still with us or are you auditioning to be a statue?"

John turned and continued with the training, looking up at the bleachers as often as he could get away with it until Tom finally left. Rodney looked at him, but John couldn't see if he was mad or worried.

As far as John knew Tom hadn't told anyone about what had happened between them. At least nobody had ever mentioned anything to John or looked at him in a strange way, and after the incident John had been wary of just about anyone, so he was sure he would have noticed.

And Tom wasn't a bad guy. If he hadn't told anyone before, he probably wouldn't make a point of telling Rodney now, would he? Unless he wanted to warn Rodney. Though doing it in plain sight of John wouldn't necessarily be the best way to go about that.

Though it could be that Tom _wanted_ John to know that Rodney knew, so that there wouldn't be a repeat of what had happened between them. But wouldn't it be too late for that? It had been over two months since they'd first started hanging out together. If Tom feared that John would pull the same stunt on Rodney, it would be too late to warn him wouldn't it?

It suddenly occurred to John that maybe Tom didn't want to warn him but to congratulate him. Maybe Tom had drawn the innocent conclusion that John and Rodney were a couple—not openly together, but still very obviously together—and wanted to show his support. It didn't have to be malicious at all, but he could still accidentally out John to Rodney.

John tried not to panic. Rodney didn't strike him as homophobic—when he'd heard someone being called a fag, he'd rolled his eyes and said, "Oh, how very mature"—but that didn't mean he wouldn't freak out when his new friend turned out to be gay. Or at least not entirely straight. And also a bit fucked up about it.

Shit. After what had happened with Tom, John had vowed to himself not to think about guys or girls and given himself a free pass for any and all thoughts he had while masturbating. This wasn't supposed to be a problem for now. And now it might be. Now it might cost him the first real friendship he'd had in years.

He took his time in the shower, hoping to postpone the moment where he'd have to inevitably face Rodney. Eventually, he was alone in the locker room and had to fear that Rodney would storm in if only to berate him that the bleachers weren't the most comfortable place to study. Or to demand an explanation about what Tom had told him.

John got dressed quickly and met up with Rodney, who asked, "What on Earth took you so long?"

"Uh," John said. He hadn't expected the obvious question. So he countered with his own to get it over with. "What did Tom want?"

Rodney frowned. Then he seemed to understand what John meant and said, "Ah, the guy that was here during your training? He wanted to ask if you'd be able to help out with the lights again."

"For the play?!" John asked. It was just about the stupid play? And here he'd worried that his world was about to end. God, he was an idiot.

"I assume so yes," Rodney said. He gave John a strange look. "He mentioned that you used to hang out."

"Uh, yeah," John said, getting nervous again. "What else did he say?"

"Nothing much. He noticed that we spend a lot of time together," Rodney said.

They looked at each other for a long moment, until it got awkward, so John looked down at the field. "Should we head to your place?" he asked, still not looking at Rodney.

"Sure," Rodney said. "Since you took so long, I'm done with my homework, but I can help you with yours and then we can play—"

"I don't need your _help_ ," John said testily. He hated it when Rodney acted like he was smarter than John. He _was_ , but as far as school was concerned, John was fine on his own.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Fine. You can finish your homework, and I can solo the first few levels."

~~

John had hoped that the episode with Tom was over and things were back to normal when Rodney casually said, "Melissa Taylor isn't seeing anyone, is she? Do you think she'd go out with me if I asked her?"

John froze. This had been one of the other things he liked about spending time with Rodney. They didn't talk about girls. They didn't show each other the grossest porn they could find, or videos and pictures that supposedly resembled someone they knew. They didn't discuss which girls had to be slutty, and what they'd be willing to do with you. They didn't even talk about actual real feelings involving girls.

Until now apparently.

This couldn't be a coincidence. He didn't know what exactly Tom had said or let slip, but for Rodney to suddenly bring up a girl, _something_ must have made him feel the need to wave the normal-straight-guy flag.

John felt sick. Even under normal circumstances Rodney talking about girls would have been awkward at best for John. Right now it just made him want to disappear. He didn't say anything.

"John?" Rodney asked.

Fuck. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to have _guy talks_ with Rodney. He didn't want to wait for the moment when the conversation would turn from Rodney's interests to John's. He didn't want to have to decide whether he should lie for the sake of his friendship or be honest. Hell, even if he decided to be honest, he didn't even know what that would mean.

"You're not interested in her, are you?" Rodney asked carefully.

That was it. Without a word, John got up and picked up his backpack and left.

"John?" Rodney said, following him. "Don't go. I'm sorry. It's none of my business."

Jeannie stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up with big eyes. John quickly walked past her out the door, ignoring Rodney who was still following, dismissing his sister, who'd asked what he'd done.

"John! Come on," Rodney said. "You can't just leave like this. At least tell me what I did!"

John had undone the lock on his bike, but hesitated before getting on. He turned to Rodney.

Rodney looked frantic and pleading, which was an unusual look for him. But if John just pretended nothing had happened, it wasn't going to change anything. Even if Rodney would readily agree to never talk about girls or guys or sex, John had no idea how to ask without seeming exactly as fucked up as he was.

And Rodney was terrible at leaving things be. When he was curious about something, he _had_ to know even for the inconsequential bullshit stuff. It would be so much worse if it was John.

"What did Tom tell you?" John asked. Maybe if he knew exactly what had prompted Rodney to ask about Melissa, he could explain it once and then they could let it rest forever.

"He didn't tell me anything," Rodney said. "He just said that I've been spending a lot of time with you, and maybe I got a little defensive. I don't even know the guy. Then he said it's fine and that he hung out with you too. Then he started rambling as if he wanted to take it back or something."

Great, just great. Enough to make Rodney suspicious, but not enough to force John to explain. John looked away, wishing he could turn back time. Things had been going great for him. He'd had a friend, his father had left him alone, and he was doing well in school.

"Look, I don't know what happened between the two of you, but it doesn't have to be like that with us," Rodney said.

"You don't even know what happened," John pointed out, knowing full well that it was an invitation for Rodney to ask, but the cat was out of the bag he supposed.

"I know that you're _not_ hanging out with him anymore," Rodney said, instead of asking _what_ had happened.

"Can we never talk about this again?" John asked, hoping that _maybe_ there was a way out of this situation that didn't end with him losing Rodney or complete humiliation or both.

"If that's what it takes," Rodney said earnestly.

"This and Melissa or any other...stuff like that," John said.

Rodney raised an eyebrow but nodded.

"Okay, then," John said, locking his bike again.

Rodney sighed loudly in relief. He stood until John walked back to the house, not leaving him out of his sight and staying behind him as he were afraid John might change his mind and leave after all.

They quickly walked past Jeannie back to Rodney's room and sat down again at the console.

Rodney turned to John and gave him a tight smile. John smiled back and Rodney relaxed.

Maybe everything would be just fine.

~~

Everything was _not_ fine. Things were normal again between him and Rodney, and they never talked about Tom or Melissa or anything resembling relationships or dating or just attraction and teenage horniness.

But John couldn't stop thinking about what Rodney had said—or specifically the implications of what he'd said. That he was straight.

It wasn't as if Rodney had ever given him a reason to think otherwise. And it wasn't as if it should matter. John wasn't having a crush on him or anything. He didn't jerk off thinking about Rodney. He didn't wonder how Rodney would react if John made a move on him.

John hadn't even _wanted_ a friend in the first place, but Rodney had just wormed himself into his life, and it had just _fit_. And now it somehow didn't, and it drove John nuts because it made no sense. He didn't want to date anyone or even fool around or experiment or _anything_. He wanted none of those things with Rodney or anyone else for that matter, so he should not care if Rodney wanted to do those things with Melissa.

But he did. He really did. Fuck!

John ran out of the house to let off some steam. He went to the stables and took out a horse. He didn't do this very often because it reminded him too much of his mother, but right now he wanted to feel the wind in his face and the tight rein needed to control a horse.

He concentrated on his mare, giving her attention and guidance, until there was nothing else in his head except the speed and power of this beautiful animal as they raced through the perfectly maintained grounds of his family's home.

~~

Even after acknowledging that he cared whether or not Rodney was dating someone else, John refused to draw the inevitable conclusion from that. He'd been happy that they'd gotten over that awkward moment, and he didn't want to risk things between them again just because he had feelings he didn't even want to think about.

That was the other thing that frustrated him. He wasn't even sure what that inevitable conclusion would be. That whole debacle with Tom had made things more fuzzy than clear. He'd thought he'd give himself some time to figure himself out, but ignoring the problem wasn't really better.

John felt on edge the next day when he talked to Rodney. The whole point of not thinking about his sexual orientation had been to avoid the awkwardness and tension and not knowing what the hell was going on in his stupid brain, and now he was exactly there.

Rodney invited him over to his place after school, which wasn't unusual, and even though John would have preferred to avoid Rodney right now, he didn't see how he could do that without a good excuse. And he didn't want to lie to Rodney.

One of the great things about being with Rodney was that he didn't have to pretend. He was never the typical football player or chess player or drama club member, but he was still aware of the expectations of those roles. With Rodney he was just John.

And now he suddenly was John, except a John who didn't have weird feelings about his best friend and who definitely didn't struggle figuring out what he wanted, let alone whom.

The thing was, he knew that eventually he needed to face his feelings. He wanted to have a relationship eventually. He didn't want to be alone for the rest of his life, so at the very least he needed to know if he wanted his partner to be a man or a woman or if it didn't matter.

He almost wished he and Rodney were the kind of friends who could talk about such things. But the truth was that as much as Rodney liked to talk, he never really talked about that kind of stuff—stuff that mattered. He never talked about how the divorce affected him. He didn't talk about what it was like not to have friends in his old school.

It occurred to John that this might have been part of the attraction of being with Rodney. He didn't have to listen to someone opening up about their most secret thoughts, which in turn meant he didn't have to expose too much of himself.

Except now he felt he could really need a friend to talk. He could try, he supposed. Maybe when Rodney had started talking about Melissa that had been an attempt to open their relationship to more personal topics. John still didn't particularly want to listen to Rodney talk about his feelings for someone else, but that was more because of his own feelings for Rodney.

And those feelings still weren't entirely clear to John. Maybe he'd just been upset that Rodney had changed the status quo between them. It was a _possibility_ even if it wasn't likely.

Maybe just talking to Rodney would clear things up for him, and then he could deal with his feelings like an adult. Well, he could dream.

John was still debating whether to talk with Rodney and if so how, when Rodney looked at him and said, "Okay, what is wrong with you today? I've never seen you so...twitchy."

John looked at him and simply blurted out, "My father caught me and Tom making out in the living room."

Rodney blinked. Then he frowned. "Wait, when? Tom? You mean bleacher guy? And what do you mean making out? I thought... He didn't just kiss _you_?"

"It was before you came here," John said. "And what do you mean you thought he kissed _me_? You said he didn't tell you anything. What _did_ he say?"

"He didn't say anything, but everyone knows he's gay and you hung out and then you didn't," Rodney said. "I thought that he, you know, came on to you, and you rejected him and things got awkward, but you... Wait. If you _didn't_ reject him, why did you stop hanging out after being caught? Did your father threaten to disown you? Is _that_ why we're never at your place? You're not telling your father, 'Hey, I'll be hanging out with my new friend _Meredith_ ', are you? Wink. Wink. Nudge. Nudge."

"Okay, that's just disturbing," John said. "And no, I told him you're a _guy_ friend. I'm not sure _what_ he's thinking, but he didn't say anything to me. It's not like we talk a lot anyway. Which is good as far as I'm concerned."

"Then why did you break up with Tom?" Rodney asked.

"I didn't _break up_ with him. We weren't really... I mean we'd only... That was the only time we..." John trailed off scratching his neck. Why again had he thought talking about this was a good idea?

"Well, the living room probably wasn't the best place if you didn't want to be caught," Rodney commented. Then his eyes narrowed. "Oh, god. Did you _want_ to be caught? Why would you do that?"

John got up from the floor where they were sitting. He considered running away, but here he was with someone who could give him a different perspective. He only had to open his damn mouth. Shit.

John let himself fall back on Rodney's bed and covered his eyes. "I don't know," he said feebly.

"You don't know _if_ you wanted to be caught or _why_ you wanted to be caught?" Rodney asked, crawling onto the bed next to John.

John just shook his head. "I just don't know." He looked at Rodney helplessly. "My dad is... Ever since my mother's death the only thing I hear from him is what he expects from me. I'm supposed to go to Harvard, then take over the family business with my brother, get married, have kids, be a good Sheppard and a good son." John sat up. "And what drives me nuts is that he doesn't just say that but that he always, _always_ brings up my mother. As if I'm spitting on her grave if I'm not exactly the way he thinks I should be."

"Sounds like an asshole," Rodney commented.

"He is. Well, after the thing with Tom he sort of stopped talking to me. Or maybe this is a truce. At least when he's not talking to me, I don't feel the need to punch his face every time he mentions my mom," John said. He hadn't really meant to talk about all of this, but it was all somehow connected.

"So you wanted to be caught kissing a guy to show him that you aren't going to be the robot son he wants you to be?" Rodney asked.

"Something like that," John said.

"What did Tom think about that?" Rodney asked.

John turned away to look out the window. "I didn't...exactly tell him."

"Oh," Rodney said.

"I hadn't really planned it. And it wasn't... I _did_ like him," John admitted.

"Not enough to be with him," Rodney pointed out.

"Well, he wasn't really interested after... My dad and I had a huge shouting match when he caught us. He accused me of being selfish and taking my pain out on him, and he said he wasn't falling for it. And afterwards Tom asked me if my father was right about only doing it to get back at him and I...well, I didn't immediately deny it. It's not like I had planned it all out! I didn't want to _use_ him or anything. But he...told me that instead of blaming everything on my father, I should think about myself and how fucked up _I_ was... Long story short, it was a whole clusterfuck, and since then I'm not speaking to Tom or my dad," John finished.

Rodney just looked at him for a long time. "So were you ever interested in Tom, I mean romantically?" he eventually asked.

"I honestly don't know," John said.

"You don't know if you were interested in _him_ , or you don't know if you are interested in guys in general?" Rodney asked.

John opened his mouth but nothing came out.

"It's okay to be gay," Rodney said.

"I _know_ ," John said. "But...it's not like I find girls disgusting or anything."

"Uh, that's not how it works," Rodney said, frowning. "At least, I don't think that all heterosexual guys find other guys _disgusting_ or that girls find other girls disgusting even if they're not into them sexually. They wouldn't plaster them all over magazines if that were the case."

"I could imagine being with a girl...maybe," John said.

"'Maybe'?" Rodney repeated doubtfully. "Like, when you masturbate, do you think about fucking a guy or a girl?"

"It's not... An ass is an ass, and it's not like I know the difference in how it feels to fuck an ass vs a pussy." John could feel himself flushing. This was rapidly turning from embarrassing into downright humiliating.

"Have you ever thought about sucking a guy's cock?" Rodney asked. "About taking it in your hand and stroking it and pulling back the foreskin so that you can lick along—"

"Jesus," John said, shifting on the bed.

Rodney looked down his body, where John's cock left little doubt about whether or not he was turned on by this scenario. "You're not straight," he concluded.

"But that doesn't mean I'm..." John didn't really want to say it, even if it _was_ okay.

"No, it doesn't," Rodney said. "You could be bi. Nothing wrong with that. I had a girlfriend in my last school. Well, I wouldn't really call her a girlfriend, but we fooled around. I went down on her, and she went down on me. Doesn't mean I won't do the same for you." Then he put his hand on John's tented crotch.

"Rodney, I—" John protested. This was going incredibly fast. Rodney was apparently into guys as well as girls. John still wasn't sure what to feel. And yes, maybe Rodney was right and he was definitely not straight, but that didn't necessarily mean that he wanted to date Rodney, did it? Maybe they'd work better as friends.

Rodney removed his hand and got up. John was panting and watched as Rodney went to the door and locked it, then returned to the bed.

"This doesn't have to change anything," Rodney said. "We can just...experiment." He moved to straddle John's thighs. "Unless you really don't want to."

John looked up at Rodney, still panting. Of course, he wanted. Merely the thought of Rodney touching his dick made him almost ready to come. "What exactly...?"

"Whatever you want, John," Rodney said and leaned forward, starting to undo John's fly.

John bit his lip to keep from coming right then and there. Then he moved, trying to push Rodney off. "Let me...get out of my pants, please."

"Oh, yeah, naked will be better," Rodney said, moving off of John and pulling off his shirt.

John looked away and struggled out of his own clothes, before turning back to Rodney, who was naked too and lying next to him, watching John. "Uh, kiss me?" John blurted out, feeling himself flush. He tried to turn his face away, but Rodney pulled him into a kiss, and then they were all over each other.

They were kissing, and he felt Rodney's tongue against his and skin and hands, and god, that was Rodney's dick. John's hips started moving of their own accord, and suddenly Rodney's hand was around both their dicks and it was so good.

"Oh, god, yeah, yeah," John said between kisses, and then Rodney did something with his thumb, and John bit his lip to keep from shouting and spurted between them. John collapsed, head on Rodney's shoulder. Rodney let go of their dicks and started rapidly jerking himself off until he came. Seeing Rodney's cock shoot his seed on top of John's was almost enough to get John hard again. "So hot," he muttered, then turned his face and kissed whatever bit of skin was there, which turned out to be Rodney's neck.

"Yeah," Rodney agreed. "This is going to be great."

John lifted his head, and when he saw Rodney's grin, he had to grin in return.

~~

John took a shower before going down to dinner that evening. He tried not to flush or act differently, but he still feared that his father would somehow know what he'd done just by looking at him.

He needn't have bothered. His father only nodded at him in acknowledgement, and no further words were spoken during dinner that weren't related to passing food.

John thought back to Rodney's question if his father had threatened to disown him. Maybe he _had_ disowned John and just hadn't bothered to tell him. Maybe he'd given up on John and was biding his time now until David came back from boarding school and was everything that John wasn't. And John would be allowed to do whatever he wanted with nothing but, "Goodbye and I hope you have a good life for your mother's sake."

At least that would mean they wouldn't have to shout at each other if John actually thought about bringing Rodney home as his boyfriend and when he told his father that he definitely had no interest in working at Sheppard Industries.

And John didn't have any plans for his life that relied on his family's money. He didn't want to be that kind of guy.

So really, it would be perfect if his father just let him be, wouldn't it? John tried to tell himself that the answer was yes, but unfortunately it _felt_ far from perfect.

~~

Apart from his relationship with his father, things were going great for John. With Rodney as a friend, he had an even easier time keeping up his good grades. And now in addition to hanging out, they were also messing around regularly.

Often they just rutted against each other until they came, but over time John also had the opportunity to play with Rodney's nipples which were really sensitive, much more so than his own though he liked when Rodney touched and especially sucked them. He also got to take a closer look at Rodney's uncut dick.

It was a bit weird, but also cool to play with the extra skin, and Rodney was certainly into it. Of course, Rodney was into just about anything they did. He was usually the one suggesting something new.

Like one day when John was taking his time getting Rodney hard, lying next to his hips to get a good look. "Ever thought about taking it in your mouth?" Rodney asked.

John stopped stroking him and looked up at Rodney. He could feel himself flushing.

"I can suck you off first," Rodney suggested. He always offered to go first, but this time John shook his head.

"Let me try," he said. He leaned closer to the dick in his hand, wondering how to best approach this. Rodney was getting harder in his hand. "I haven't even licked it," John commented, squeezing Rodney's cock.

"I _know_ , bastard," Rodney said, sounding strained. "This is going to be over very quickly, and I'm _not_ going to be sorry when I come all over your face."

John had to laugh even as he flushed. God, that sounded hot.

"You like the idea," Rodney said.

John only looked at him, then closed the distance to Rodney's dick and licked the exposed head. He didn't realize he'd closed his eyes until he opened them again when he heard Rodney groan.

"This is the hottest thing I have ever seen," Rodney panted.

"Better than all your porn?" John asked doubtfully. Rodney had an extensive cross-referenced collection.

"Get your mouth back on my dick!" Rodney ordered. "Please," he added after a moment.

"As you wish," John said with a grin, then went back to lick at the head of Rodney's cock where some pre-come had formed. This wasn't the first time he'd tasted Rodney's come, but sucking it straight from his dick was a turn on.

"God, John," Rodney moaned. John stroked Rodney's shaft and sucked on the head of his cock, making Rodney jerk up his hips. "Sorry, just... I'm so close," Rodney said.

John nodded, tightened his grip, and sucked harder, until Rodney said, "Fuck!" and started shooting in John's mouth.

John tried to swallow, but he was a bit surprised and moved back, letting Rodney slip from his mouth. The next spurt hit his chin, and Rodney groaned, "Oh, god."

John quickly took him back in his mouth, feeling the last spurts. Thinking about what he'd just done, that he'd just sucked another guy's cock, made his own cock jerk, and he felt himself come against Rodney's thigh.

He suckled on Rodney's dick until Rodney complained, then let him go and looked at Rodney, who was flushed and sweaty and panting.

"I feel like I should be embarrassed that I came so fast, but that was glorious," Rodney said.

"I came against your leg," John pointed out. "And technically it was probably not very good."

Rodney put his hand on John's shoulder and pulled him until he could kiss him. "Just think about how it will be with a bit of practice," he said, eyes glowing with excitement. Then he pulled John into a deep, wet kiss. "God, I can taste myself. This is the best thing ever."

John couldn't disagree.

~~

They spent the rest of the school year working on their technique.

John would never forget the sight of Rodney sucking on his dick and looking up at him at the same time. The first time it was enough to make him come immediately. When they really wanted to take their time, they quickly jerked each other off first.

They tried different positions, including sixty-nines, though that proved more tricky than it looked in porn. They also combined blow jobs with cradling balls or tickling the perineum and of course nipple play for Rodney. By the time summer break came, they'd started fingering each other's assholes.

John was not at all opposed to the idea of actual fucking, and he was contemplating being the one to ask first for once. He read up on the subject—even though he liked to make fun of Rodney researching sexual positions—and thought that summer break would be ideal for them to take their time.

He was in no hurry to reach that milestone, thinking about the times Rodney had accidentally choked him by involuntarily thrusting or how he'd squeezed John's head between his thighs during one of their less than successful sixty-nine attempts. He'd rather spend weeks getting his ass used to the idea of a cock in it than being unable to sit at the dinner table.

His father still hadn't once commented on how much time he spent with Rodney, but John wasn't sure if a sore ass was something he'd be willing to ignore.

On their last school day, Rodney was unbearably smug. He even turned his PE grade—worse than John's obviously—into a matter of personal pride.

John was thinking about a way to take him down a peg or two, but he was also excited because the prospect of them fucking—and of John initiating it—was even better than trumping Rodney's ego.

Ms. Jenkins absentmindedly congratulated her son, and Jeannie tried to one-up Rodney with her own grades. He was having none of it, dismissing them out of hand for being "kindergarten level". John actually felt bad for her, so he stayed behind a bit when Rodney rushed up the stairs as they usually did and quickly told her, "Pretty impressive, kiddo," with a smile.

Jeannie beamed at him, and he felt better following Rodney to his room.

"Ah, freedom," Rodney said, letting himself fall on the bed.

John closed the door and locked it and crawled on top of Rodney. "I've been thinking," he said, biting his own lip in nervousness.

"Did you hurt your head?" Rodney mocked, stroking John's hair.

John growled at him. "I want you to fuck me," he said quickly. "Not right now, but...I think it would be a nice...summer project."

Rodney's eyes widened, all superiority wiped away for a moment and replaced with wonder. "Summer project?"

"Well, I read that you shouldn't go too fast, especially the first time. And if you do it right, it shouldn't hurt at all..." John trailed off as a fond smile came over Rodney's face. "Yes, I can read," he added, pre-empting whatever insult Rodney was preparing.

Rodney grinned. "I knew you were smarter than you look." John glared at him. "And I've been reading up on it too. I just wasn't sure if you'd want it."

"Well, I can't say for sure until we've actually _done_ it, but I'd certainly like to _try_ ," John said.

"So far the best thing about summer vacations has been that I can learn whatever I want instead of following a stupid curriculum," Rodney said.

"And this will be exactly the same," John said with a grin. "Just think about how good we'll be after nearly three months." He leaned down to kiss Rodney.

Rodney put his arms around John and pulled him down on top of him. They kissed for a while, deep and messy, but relaxed instead of urgently. This was more about anticipation than getting off. They'd have all the time in the world for that in summer.

"I've been thinking about fucking for some time now," Rodney said when they came up for air. "When do you want to start?"

John chuckled. "No need to hurry. And did you think about fucking me or being fucked?" He'd imagined both but was somehow even more excited about _being_ fucked than fucking Rodney. Not that he'd mind that. Rodney had a great ass.

"Both!" Rodney said. "Maybe a bit more about fucking you than the other way round, but I definitely want to try both."

"That's perfect," John said, smiling happily.

Rodney looked up at him with big eyes. He moved the hand from behind John's head to his face for a moment, tenderly touching John's cheek and lip. "I...," Rodney began, but eventually finished with, "Yeah, it is."

John didn't know what Rodney had meant to say, but he wished he would have said it. He didn't dare to break the moment by asking though, so he leaned down again and softly kissed Rodney.

~~

John was out of bed early the next day and wasted no time taking his bike to Rodney's house.

They'd started looking at websites the day before, researching lubes and butt plugs and dildos. There even were inflatable ones, that would allow them to slowly go bigger and bigger when they moved away from fingers. Though John still thought just using more fingers should do the trick. It seemed more personal to have a finger in your ass than a piece of plastic. And it wasn't as if Rodney was so large that four stretched fingers wouldn't easily simulate his girth.

Rodney had only given him a murderous look when he'd pointed that out. Since John's cock was larger than his, the only thing he'd said in defense was that John needed to check with a doctor if he could fold his fingers into a perfectly circular shape.

John grinned just thinking about it. He rang the bell, and as expected it didn't take long until Rodney opened the door. What John hadn't expected was the furious look on his face. "What happened?" John asked.

Rodney didn't say anything, just turned and walked straight up the stairs, leaving John to follow. The room was a mess with clothes and other things lying about—and two large suitcases.

"I have to spend the summer with my dad," Rodney said, continuing to pack. "Our flight leaves tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?!" John said. "When did you..." This was the first he'd heard of this, and looking at Rodney, he hadn't known either. "Did he just buy you the tickets or what?"

" _Apparently_ this had always been the plan. Unfortunately nobody remembered to tell us. Or maybe they both thought the other would tell us. Jeannie doesn't mind, but I..." Rodney gave John a longing look before turning back to the suitcase. "The one time that they have to agree on something. It's not like he'll even have all that much time to spend with us. This is such a waste of time!"

John tried to process that information. He'd been looking forward to the perfect summer. Sex and games and subjects that Rodney found interesting, no homework, no teachers. It would have been great. "Well, it's..." He tried to think of something positive to say, but he found nothing. Rodney had only ever mentioned his father in passing in the context of fighting with his mother, which was thankfully over since the divorce. "It sucks," he finished.

"Understatement of the year," Rodney said. "I had _plans_. Big plans. Some of the stuff I can do in Canada, but I really wanted you to see it and..."

"We can chat," John said. "They have internet in Canada, don't they?" he joked.

"Yeah, but even a full HD picture will not be the same. Especially not for..." Rodney came closer, took John's hands, and pulled him into a kiss. "Our big summer project will have to wait."

"We'll make it our fall project," John said.

Rodney nodded, kissing John again.

"Was that John?" came Jeannie's voice through the door.

Rodney went and locked the door decisively. "Yes, it was. I can pack while he's here, so don't go blabbing to Mom," he shouted through the door.

John raised an eyebrow. He'd yet to see Rodney's mother take an interest in anything her son did, so he doubted she would interfere with his packing. Unless she really wanted to avoid a discussion with her ex-husband, which wasn't unlikely. Even though Rodney had never explicitly talked about it, John had heard enough to know that they'd really hated each other towards the end.

Sometimes he wondered who the people were that acted like the families on TV. The ones that loved and cared about each other. He shrugged the thought away. Rodney was only here for one more day. After that he'd have all summer to think about whatever he wanted to think about—or find ways to avoid thinking.

~~

In the end John decided to get a job over summer. He'd be able to buy a car without his father interfering, and it would kill the time he wasn't chatting with Rodney.

They made the most out of messaging, chatting, videos, and any combination thereof, and John worked in a supermarket shelving things and tutored two kids in math on weekends—to Rodney's amusement.

Rodney built quite a few science projects. With John not there, he let Jeannie help him with some of those, and John could see how much she enjoyed the attention from her brother. Not to mention that she was pretty smart for her age, so it wasn't really a burden. She even corrected Rodney once to her glee and Rodney's vexation.

It made John smile to watch them together when Rodney streamed or recorded as they worked.

They also chatted in private of course, and Rodney wasted no time suggesting video cam sex. John locked his door and even put a chair under the handle just in case and then he used earphones so that his father couldn't hear if he was somehow walking past his room. That way John could hear Rodney as loudly as he wanted.

Rodney could be wonderfully filthy if he wanted to. John tried, but never got the hang of verbally seducing the way Rodney did, so he left it at responding and encouraging Rodney and showing Rodney what he did through the cam.

Between work and virtually hanging out with Rodney, the summer went by much faster than John had feared it would. Soon he had enough money to buy a cheap car and Rodney was set to return—and their fall project could begin.

~~

John's heart was beating loudly in his chest when he rang the bell to Rodney's house. They'd talked to each other almost every day one way or another, but to actually be in the same room with Rodney again—to be able to touch him—was still something he'd been waiting for ever since Rodney had left.

When Rodney opened the door only a few seconds later, John looked at him and felt an almost physical need to pull him into his arms and kiss him. He didn't, though, since Jeannie lurked in the background.

Rodney just turned and quickly walked upstairs. John closed the door, greeted Jeannie in passing, and followed him.

He was hardly in Rodney's room, when Rodney pulled him into a kiss. Oh god, yes. He'd missed this so much. John could hear Rodney fumbling with the lock, then he was pushed towards the bed, all without stopping the kiss.

They landed on the bed and just made out what felt like forever.

The week before Rodney's flight back home, Rodney's sex talk had increasingly been about what he would do to John when he returned. It had been a huge turn on for John, who'd thought they'd pretty much blow and stroke each other to orgasm within minutes of their reunion.

Now, however, having Rodney in his arms again seemed more important than getting off. They had time for that. They had a full school year for that. John vaguely thought that he'd never been so happy about summer break being over.

The things Rodney did to him...

~~

They did have sex that day, of course. Twice.

Afterwards, Rodney started talking about their fall project. He'd ordered different lubes, condoms, and an inflatable dildo. John felt himself flush at the idea of something like that being delivered to his home address, no matter how discreet the packaging promised to be. But Rodney was probably right not to worry about his own family. Jeannie would be curious, but Rodney had more than enough experience brushing her off.

"So should we take a look at your car? We could take it somewhere and _christen_ it, so to speak," Rodney said with a grin.

"You're insatiable today," John said. He rolled over to Rodney and playfully bit his neck. "I approve."

"So what about your car?" Rodney asked. "Is it so crappy that you don't want to show it off?"

"It's not crappy," John protested. "I haven't bought it yet."

"Oh? Why not?" Rodney asked.

"You're the guy who can—in your own words—fix anything, so I figured I'd let you take a look at it," John said. Predictably a smug grin appeared on Rodney's face, making John roll his eyes.

"A wise decision," Rodney said.

"Uh huh," John said. "So do you have time today? Or do you still have to unpack?"

"Pfft. Unpacking can wait. I can migrate my clothes back to the closet by using them. Efficiency is key," Rodney said.

"Then let's go."

~~

The car _was_ crappy, but it was _his_ , paid for with his own hard-earned money. John felt unaccountably proud of the thing and couldn't help grinning as he admired the silver blue metallic surface.

"I should have known you're one of _those_ guys," Rodney commented mildly.

"I'm not," John disagreed. "Or I would have gotten one the day I turned sixteen. I probably could have talked my father into buying me one."

"If you were talking to him," Rodney said. "So how are you gonna get this _and_ your bike home now?"

With a bit of effort, John managed to stow away the bike in the trunk, even without removing a wheel as Rodney had suggested. He got behind the wheel, taking a deep breath.

"Well, some of us have to ride home on our bikes," Rodney said unenthused.

"I can pick you up tomorrow. We could take this baby out for a ride," John suggested.

"'Baby'? Sure, you're not one of _those_ guys," Rodney said, rolling his eyes.

"Tomorrow?" John got Rodney back on track.

"I promised Jeannie I'd go shopping with her. She has to buy...things. So unless you wanna join us—"

"Nah, don't want to interrupt the brother sister bonding," John said, smiling.

"We had enough bonding for a lifetime this summer," Rodney said.

"Call me when you're back home," John said. "And if it's too late, I'll pick you up on Monday."

"Pick me up?" Rodney asked, surprised.

"You don't want a ride? No more riding in the rain with the threat of catching pneumonia and robbing the world of your genius?" John asked, reciting one of Rodney's frequent complaints.

"Uh, sure I'd like the ride. I just wasn't sure if you wanted..." Rodney trailed off.

"It's not that big of a detour," John said, frowning.

"Right," Rodney said. "I'll see you tomorrow then, or on Monday." He picked up his bike and got on.

John waited until he started riding home, driving beside him for a stretch.

"You wanna accompany me home, or what?" Rodney asked.

"Just enjoying the sight of your ass on a bike while I can," John said, then drove off laughing.

~~

"What, you didn't spend every waking moment together during summer break?" Jerry asked, when John proudly told him how he'd worked for his new ride.

"Funny," John commented.

Instead of a biting remark, Rodney didn't say anything, gathering his things. "See you in class," he said, walking past them.

"Trouble in paradise?" Jerry asked.

"What?" John asked, confused. 

Jerry rolled his eyes. "I hope you kept in shape during summer," he went on, talking about the team.

John looked after where Rodney was quickly disappearing in the crowd, then followed Jerry as they talked.

~~

School went on like it had the year before. John and Rodney still had many classes in common. John was on the football team, but also played chess and helped the drama club. People—especially his teammates—still teased John about hanging out with Rodney. And maybe the jokes were a bit more along the lines of "Hey, Sheppard, where's your girlfriend?" than they used to be, but John didn't really care.

He didn't think anyone was seriously suspecting that he and Rodney were together. At least some of them asked if he'd had some _fun_ over summer, knowing full well that Rodney had spent it in Canada, so it was all good.

Their fall project started the moment Rodney's package arrived. They still traded blow and hand jobs, but now they also started playing with their assholes with a purpose, more so with John's than with Rodney's by mutual agreement.

John could convince Rodney to stick with fingers for now instead of the inflatable dildo and to take their time. They discovered the miracle of prostate stimulation, which worked absolutely perfectly in combination with blow jobs as far as John was concerned.

He started taking in more fingers, letting his ass slowly get used to the idea of taking something bigger.

"My dick's not so small now, huh?" Rodney joked, when John said two fingers squeezed tightly were _plenty_ for now.

"It was never _small_ ," John said magnanimously. "It's just that my cock is _huge_."

"Oh yeah, how do you even manage to find pants?" Rodney asked sarcastically. "And doesn't your dick get in the way of driving?"

John had to laugh at that, which was weird with Rodney's fingers up his ass.

Eventually, a few weeks into the school year, John could comfortably take three fingers, even when Rodney tried to spread them, and he felt he was ready to take the plunge.

Rodney got a towel, a bowl of water, and a washcloth from the bathroom.

"We're not preparing for a birth here, Rodney," John pointed out.

"I certainly hope not," Rodney said. "But do you really want to stick your lubed up ass into your boxers and go to the bathroom to clean up?"

"It's what I've been doing so far," John said.

"Well, we'll use more lube than that today," Rodney said. "You'll be drowning in lube. You're gonna be so slick, my dick will basically just slip in."

"Sure, Rodney," John said, one corner of his mouth tugging up. He knew enough about his ass by now to know that nothing that size would just 'slip in'. And Rodney knew it too. But if it made Rodney feel better it was fine with John.

Truth be told, John expected there to be a bit of discomfort and maybe even a tiny hint of pain, but he didn't mind if the final result was worth it—which it promised to be if their experiences so far were any indication. Rodney on the other hand was very particular about pain. He'd never taken more than two fingers, letting John be the pioneer on this one—for now.

They lay down on the bed and got naked. They had it all planned out, so in order to have more time, they sucked each other off first and then relaxed and made out before Rodney started his one finger, two fingers, three fingers, _stretch_ routine. Not that it had become routine or anything. It still felt amazing when Rodney went for his prostate.

"I think I'm ready," John eventually said.

Rodney went to get lube once more. He hadn't been kidding about John drowning in it. He squeezed another generous amount on his hands and shoved them in. Then they traded places. They'd decided that John would be best able to control how much he took if he was on top, so Rodney lay down on the bed, while John straddled him across his crotch.

If felt like there was lube coming out of his ass, but John tried to concentrate on getting a condom on Rodney instead. Rodney had gotten fully hard again while he'd fingered John, and when he took his lubed up hands to spread some more over his condom-covered cock, he was careful, so he had to be pretty aroused already.

John hoped he wouldn't come too quickly for them to really do this. The idea of coming while Rodney was inside of him was one of the biggest turn-ons of being fucked.

When Rodney was done lubing up his dick, John took it in one hand and positioned himself directly above it. Just pressing his hole against the head of Rodney's cock made him groan. It felt so much bigger than Rodney's fingers. So solid. John pressed down, but it didn't really go in, so he forced himself to relax his ass and press further until he managed to take the head in.

Rodney made an unintelligible sound. John looked up and saw him biting his lip. "Don't mind me," Rodney said, breathing harshly. "Just do your thing."

John had to snort. The tip of Rodney's cock was _inside_ of him. It felt very big, but good. Definitely good. No pain at all so far. The training must have paid off. He lowered himself further, slowly taking more of Rodney into his body.

Half-way down he decided to move up and down a bit, the rocking motion making it easier to take Rodney's cock deeper.

"God, John," Rodney groaned.

"You're not gonna come _now_ , are you?" John asked. He still had a bit to go before he was fully seated on Rodney.

"Give me a moment," Rodney said, breathing deeply in and out a few times. "Okay, go on. But I'm not making any promises."

"Feels good?" John guessed.

"Really tight," Rodney said. "And hot. And did I mention tight?"

"You did," John said, grinning. "I'll start moving again," he warned Rodney.

He started rocking up and down again, taking more and more of Rodney until he had taken all of him. He had Rodney's whole cock inside of him. For a moment John only let that realization unfold in his mind. God, this was so fucking hot.

"John, please."

John opened his eyes, and saw Rodney looking desperate.

Then he started fucking himself on Rodney. If taking all of Rodney inside of him was amazing, Rodney's dick moving into him again and again was a miracle. And then Rodney actually started to answer his thrusts with some of his own. They were fucking. They were really fucking and it was the best thing that John had ever experienced.

They were moving like crazy, panting, and moaning.

"John, I can't," Rodney eventually said.

John took hold of his cock and jerked himself off. That in combination with Rodney's cock in him, kicked him over the edge with so much force that he wasn't sure he was going to survive it. He came and Rodney came and they were still moving and it was so fucking perfect, John stopped breathing for a moment.

Then he collapsed and Rodney slid out and John just lay there thinking that he never wanted this moment to end. He felt Rodney stroke his arm and then was gently pushed to the side so that Rodney could move away. John sighed but kept his eyes closed. He heard Rodney get up, dispose of the condom and then get a washcloth to clean John up.

"Enough. Come 'ere," John said weakly. He appreciated Rodney's care, but he wanted to cuddle.

Rodney quickly slipped back into bed and carefully pulled John into his arms. "Are you okay?"

John only looked up at him and grinned goofily. He'd never taken drugs, but he imagined this was what it felt like.

Rodney grinned as well, looking slightly relieved.

"You?" John asked.

"Was amazing," Rodney said. "Thank you." He leaned down to kiss John's forehead, then his mouth.

"Let's take a nap," John suggested. "I'm not sure I ever want to move again."

"You'll have to eventually," Rodney reminded him, stroking his hair. "But you can rest for now."

John only nodded and drifted off.

~~

John loved being fucked by Rodney. He loved it so much and so vocally that Rodney definitely wanted to try it too even if he wanted John to be even more careful than Rodney had been with him.

Rodney had amassed a ridiculous amount of lube in his room.

"Now you just need your own bathroom," John commented once because looking out for Jeannie and smuggling in washing utensils had gotten old fast.

"Newsflash, this is not a hotel," Rodney said.

"There are normal people that have their own bathroom. I have one," John said.

"No, you don't," Rodney said, giving him a look. Then his eyes widened. "Seriously? How rich _are_ you?"

"I'm not rich at all. My father is," John said. Rodney rolled his eyes. "But we could go to my place every now and then. I have a car now, so it shouldn't be a problem."

Rodney looked surprised. "You don't think your father will freak out again?"

"He hasn't said a word to me about spending nearly every afternoon and weekend with you," John pointed out. "I wasn't suggesting making out in the living room."

Rodney gave him a long look. "Okay."

~~

"I feel like in those old movies where they have to drive several miles from the gate to finally reach the house because the family grounds are about the size of a small state," Rodney commented when John drove him to his place after class.

"Yes, Rodney, this is larger than Rhode Island. The house is as big as Providence and my room is about the size of Pawtucket," John said deadpan.

"Is this where the horses graze?" Rodney asked.

John sighed. "And we have a housekeeper. I'll tell her you'll join us for dinner."

"Does she know I'm deathly allergic to citrus?" Rodney asked.

"I'll make sure to let her know," John said.

They finally arrived at the house, and John got out. "What, no parking service?" Rodney asked when he followed.

"Are you going to continue like this all afternoon?" John asked.

"Only until we're in bed," Rodney whispered, grinning.

John manfully refrained from rolling his eyes and went in. "Can you wait here for a second while I let her know about dinner?"

"Will armed men arrest me when I move? Are there laser traps installed in front of the paintings and sculptures?" Rodney asked, approaching the closest painting.

John ignored him and went to inform their housekeeper of their guest and Rodney's citrus allergy. He came back, finding Rodney more or less in the same spot. "I'm glad the ninjas didn't get you."

"So in which wing is your room? Will we pass the pool room and the winter garden?" Rodney asked.

John hit the back of his head. "Ah sorry, I wanted to point upstairs."

John put up with Rodney's glare and more comments until they finally landed in bed. "Want me to finger you, and then you can fuck me?" John asked. Rodney got two large tubes of lube from his pocket. "Are you sure that's enough?" John asked with a smirk.

"At least cleaning up won't be a problem this time," Rodney said.

They had sex and then took a shower together. John was very diligent about drying their hair.

"Wow, it really does this by itself," Rodney said.

"Shut up," John said, handing him the hairdryer. "He doesn't have to know we took a shower."

"Should I expect to be yelled at?" Rodney asked over the noise of the dryer. "Or will he just yell at you?"

"I honestly don't know what to expect," John answered.

Once they were dried off and had put their old clothes back on, it was time for dinner.

John's heart rate sped up when he heard the housekeeper talking to his father, probably informing him about the reason for the extra plate. He entered the dining hall. "Dad," he said in acknowledgement.

"John," his father said, then he turned to Rodney. "And you must be Rodney McKay. It's good to finally meet the person who captured the full attention of my son for almost a year now."

"Nine months actually," Rodney said.

"Correct," John's father acknowledged. "I see why John's grades improved to be even better than they already were."

Rodney preened. "Well, yes. Your son is smarter than he likes to admit, but even he can profit from learning with and _from_ someone with an IQ of over 150." John glared at him. Rodney cleared his throat. "I assume there's no citrus in the food."

"I was careful," the housekeeper said as she started serving.

Rodney took a seat and watched her, thanking her awkwardly. John could see that he wanted to comment on being served, but apparently thought better of it in front of John's father.

"John mentioned that you spent your summer in Canada," Patrick asked.

John mostly tuned out Rodney's answer. So this was how this was going to go down. Polite small talk at which his father excelled. It was sort of anticlimactic. John stayed mostly silent as his father and Rodney talked about Canada.

"So do you think you'll return to Canada eventually or stay in the US?" his father asked.

John's alarm bells started ringing. It was a neutral and natural enough question, but John still wondered if his father wanted to know if Rodney was someone he'd have to potentially deal with if their relationship lasted. Not that his father had made any indication that he knew or even suspected that they weren't just study buddies and friends.

"Actually I'd like to go to MIT," Rodney said. "And then on to do whatever will change the world the most."

Patrick looked at Rodney for a long moment then smiled. "You seem to have very concrete plans for the future." He glanced at John, then turned back to Rodney. "Do you know what you'll study?"

"Physics. Astrophysics to be precise. And to round it off a second PhD in Engineering," Rodney said.

"A literal rocket scientist then," Patrick said.

"Exactly," Rodney said. "Oh, did I mention the t-shirts I saw in Vancouver?"

John listened half-heartedly as Rodney talked, not daring to look at his father out of fear to see his smug face staring back at John.

~~

"So is your father one of those two-faced people who are nice in front of strangers, but brutal when they're alone with their kids, wife, or subordinates?" Rodney asked after dinner when they went to Rodney's room again.

"Uh," John said.

"He wasn't like I expected _at all_ ," Rodney said.

"He wasn't like I expected either," John said. "He's very good at talking with people."

"Well, apparently, he isn't good at talking to _you_ ," Rodney pointed out.

"Look, I've heard more from him _today_ than the whole last _month_. He was probably curious about finally meeting you," John said.

"He didn't seem to hate me," Rodney said.

"No," John agreed. "I'm not sure he... Maybe he really thinks we're just friends," John finished with a shrug.

Rodney gave him a thoughtful look.

"Does it really matter?" John asked. He didn't want to dwell on this. "It went better than expected. So maybe we can do the most lube intensive tests here from now on."

"There's no such thing as too much lube," Rodney said defensively.

"You'll drown in it," John agreed with a smirk.

~~

Phase two of their fall project went as well as phase one. Rodney enjoyed being fucked, but he had a slight preference for topping. John on the other hand absolutely loved fucking Rodney—he finally understood Rodney's mantras of "so tight"—but he loved being fucked by him even more. So it worked out perfectly for them.

There was still no sign that John's father knew that they were having sex. He was polite, even friendly with Rodney. He was as silent as always when they dined alone.

John still found himself on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He began being less careful about drying his hair when he and Rodney took a shower after having sex. But his father never asked what they'd done, unless Rodney brought up a project first, in which case he seemed quite interested and asked about their progress and what they'd ended up with.

John continued to feel uncomfortable about the situation. It just didn't seem real. He didn't trust this, as if it was just the calm before the storm. By now he was certain that his father either genuinely thought he and Rodney were just friends or was willfully turning a blind eye to the obvious. Either way he didn't acknowledge the truth about John and it meant that all the niceties and politeness was worse than nothing. It was a lie.

What made it even worse was that Rodney seemed to get along fine with Patrick. He had never _said_ anything, but John felt that Rodney probably thought he'd been overdramatic in his complaints about his father. And right now, from what Rodney had actually seen, John couldn't even blame him.

"Maybe you could stay over night this Friday," John suggested one day in late November.

They'd never had sleepovers before. Neither of them had ever brought it up, so John wasn't too surprised by Rodney's raised eyebrow. "Any reason in particular?" Rodney asked.

"No," John said.

"So no special new _project_ ," Rodney said pointedly.

"Ah, no," John said. "Unless there was something you had in mind?" They'd tried out various positions since they'd started fucking, even doing it in the car once, though that ended up in enough bruises and near-dislocations that they hadn't bothered again.

"Then why?" Rodney asked again.

"Just thought why not," John said, not looking up from his comic. "I wouldn't have to drive you back and pick you up again on Saturday."

"We can go to my place on Saturday," Rodney said. "Why is this suddenly a problem?"

"It's not a _problem_ ," John said, putting down the comic for a moment. "It was just an idea."

"Out of nowhere, for no reason," Rodney said, clearly not believing John.

"What do you _think_ the reason would be?" John asked him.

"I don't know," Rodney said. "Do you want to make out in the living room next?"

John blanched. "If he didn't question afternoon showers, a sleepover will probably not tip him over," he said.

"So this _is_ about your father," Rodney said, getting up from where he'd sat on the other end of the bed.

"It's... He's freaking me out, okay?" John said, getting up as well. "He's all nice and friendly in front of you, but he's still not really talking to me. I don't know if he's pretending that everything's fine and I'm a good straight boy or if he expects _me_ to pretend."

"Well, how about this? I've heard about this super exotic new technique that they invented. It's called _talking_ ," Rodney said sarcastically.

"I can't just..." John couldn't even put it into words. Was he supposed to go to his father and say, "Oh, and by the way, Rodney and I fuck every chance we get. What do you say now?"

"Do you want _me_ to ask him?" Rodney asked.

John stared at him open-mouthed. "How would you even...?"

"That's not a no," Rodney pointed out. "Where can I find him?" Then he walked towards John's door.

"Do you seriously just want to...?" John asked, following him.

"I don't particularly _want_ to, but you since you seem to be utterly unable to exchange more than hello and goodbye with your father, maybe it's time that someone else says something," Rodney said, walking down the hall. "Mr. Sheppard?"

"He'll be in his study," John stuttered, pointing down the stairs. He was equally in awe and terrified. He desperately wanted clarity of the situation, but he was well aware that at the end of it could be another shouting match that ended even worse than the last one.

They went to Patrick's study, and Rodney knocked, entering as soon as John's father had said, "Yes?"

He was obviously surprised to see Rodney storming in like that, looking from him to his son and back.

"You don't seem to have a problem with me being friends with your son," Rodney began.

"No," Patrick said.

"What would you say if I told you that we're also sleeping together?" Rodney continued.

John didn't breathe. His father only looked at Rodney for a long moment, then he sighed and dropped his gaze. Well, at least it wasn't anger, John thought bitterly.

"I assume you're acting responsibly?" his father asked.

"We are," Rodney confirmed.

"Then whom he chooses to associate with in that manner is up to him," Patrick said.

John looked up at him. His father didn't smile or look proud, but he seemed to mean what he'd said. "Just like that?" John asked quietly.

"I still can't say that I think the way you chose to disclose your sexual orientation was appropriate," his father said, "but...after thinking about it some more, I have come to the conclusion that it was not your choice to be...who you are, and it was not an act of rebellion or anything that had to do with me. Your mother would certainly have supported you, and I have no good reason not to do the same."

"Ok," John said barely above a whisper.

His father nodded. "Was there anything else you wanted?" He looked from John to Rodney.

"Uh, I think we're good, unless...?" Rodney said.

John quickly nodded. Then he let Rodney take his hand and drag him away with a quick "Goodnight, Mr. Sheppard" thrown over his shoulder. They went back to John's room.

"Was that what you wanted?" Rodney asked.

John looked at him and opened his mouth, but he had no words. Then he quickly pulled Rodney into a tight hug. It was suddenly hard to breathe and he started blinking.

"Are you crying?" Rodney asked.

John squeezed him even more tightly, not daring to speak. Rodney squeezed back, then stroked his head, shushing him. "It's okay now. It's gonna be okay."

Then John really had to cry. God, this was so embarrassing, but he couldn't help it.

Rodney held him throughout it, soothing him with words and his hands, until John managed to take a deep breath and quickly wiped away the wetness from his face. "I'll just," he said when he extracted himself from Rodney's arms. He rushed into the bathroom. His eyes were red and no amount of rubbing at his face with a towel made it look like he _hadn't_ just cried, so he let it be and came out again.

Rodney sat on the bed and looked up at him. "Better?"

John nodded. Then he sat down next to Rodney on the bed. After a moment, he took Rodney's hand and squeezed it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Rodney said. "That's what genius friends are for."

John snorted.

~~

The next time John had dinner with his father alone, John asked if everything was all right at work. Patrick took it as the invitation it was and talked about the current big deal they were working on. Patrick countered with a question about one of the school projects Rodney had previously mentioned, and they talked eventually drifting to football and world politics.

It was all very normal, and John sent a silent prayer thanking Rodney again for what he'd done.

That weekend when he went to Rodney's place, Rodney asked him how things were going with his father.

"Great," John said. "Well, we're not best friends or anything, and I can't say I agree with all of his opinions in politics or sports, but we...talk again. Thanks to you." He didn't think that Rodney's ego needed feeding, but Rodney really deserved all the thanks he could get in this instance.

Instead of welcoming the ego stroking, Rodney began uncharacteristically hesitantly, "I... Did it really never occur to you to just _talk_ to your father?"

John frowned. "You don't... It was like the choice was between silence and shouting, both of which weren't particularly appealing."

"Well, obviously there was a third way," Rodney pointed out.

"This wasn't just _my_ fault. It's not like _he_ ever told me that he changed his mind," John said.

"Maybe you got it from him," Rodney said.

John gave him a look. "Anyway, it's all better now, so let's not dwell on the past. Besides, since when are you an expert in family relations."

"I think I recently proved that I can be _very_ insightful," Rodney said.

"When was the last time you exchanged more than two sentences with your mother?" John asked.

"I don't talk to my mother because we don't give a shit about each other beyond being alive and well," Rodney said.

"You don't mean that," John said.

"Okay, maybe I care more than that," Rodney conceded, "but the truth is we don't have anything to say to each other, so we don't. My parents should never have married and never should have had children. It's just a twist of fate that their genetics resulted in Jeannie and me, two brilliant minds, who'll more likely than not end up just as screwed up as our parents."

"You and Jeannie will be fine," John said. "And maybe if you tried to—"

"No," Rodney interrupted him. "I can understand that you suddenly believe in the power of communication, but not every problem can be fixed the same way."

"Have you ever considered telling your mother about us?" John asked.

Rodney frowned. "No," he said. "But that has nothing to do with my relationship with my mother. I don't care whether she knows or not. But I always assumed that our...extracurricular activities were meant to remain between the two of us. And she knows I'm bi. I told my parents before the divorce."

It was John's turn to frown. "You would have told her if it weren't for me?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure it's something she needs to know. Do you _want_ me to tell her?" Rodney asked.

"I... I just don't want you to keep secrets from your parents because of _me_ ," John said.

"I don't; don't worry," Rodney said.

There was something nagging in the back of John's mind. "You think I want us to remain in the closet," he said quietly.

"Do you want to be out?" Rodney asked, visibly doubtful.

"I...haven't really thought about it," John said.

"Yeah, I figured," Rodney said. There was a hint of bitterness in it.

"You want us to be open? About our...relationship?" John asked carefully.

"Is that what it is?" Rodney asked.

"What do you mean?" John asked.

"Is it a relationship? When we started this, you weren't sure, and I said we could just mess around and nothing had to change. We never really...revisited that, so as far as I know that's where we stand," Rodney said.

John had to admit that he'd never really thought about his relationship with Rodney. He'd been so preoccupied with worrying about what his father thought, that he hadn't considered others, including Rodney. Did he want to be out? Did he want to tell his team that he and Rodney were actually together now, that they were a _couple_?

"It's okay, John," Rodney said before John could answer that question even in his own mind. "I know it's not that simple for you. Nobody gives a shit about me anyway, and fag is by far not the worst I've been called."

"I don't care about what others are thinking," John quickly said. Rodney gave him a look. "Okay, maybe I care a bit. But I'm not..." Afraid, John thought but didn't say. "If they want to call me a fag, they can. It's _their_ problem."

"Even if they're your teammates?" Rodney asked. "Are you really willing to say, 'Rodney isn't my "girlfriend", but he's my boyfriend, for real'?"

John couldn't deny that he felt slight panic at the word boyfriend. It sounded so...official.

"I told you it's okay," Rodney said patiently, which was kind of insulting.

"I'm not sure it is," John said defiantly. "But I have to think about this," he admitted.

"Do that," Rodney said. "But please let's move on to more fun things for now."

John came closer. "Did you have something particular in mind?" he asked grinning.

"I could think of a few things," Rodney said, pulling him into a kiss.

~~

Rodney didn't remind John of their conversation when he left that day, but it was on John's mind later that night.

Did he want to come out at his school? And if not, why not? He thought about Rodney's words, about announcing Rodney as his boyfriend.

When John thought about the word boyfriend, he somehow associated it with those overly demonstrative couples that needed to suck face in every break and called each other "baby" and other pet names.

It was easy enough to imagine that they wouldn't be like _that_ , but what would they do? Would they change absolutely nothing, acting only like friends outside of their rooms? If that were the case, why even tell anyone? What would his team mates and other people think if they made a point of coming out as a couple without ever showing any sign of it in public?

Would they even believe him? Would they think he just wanted to make a statement? Which was pretty much the opposite of what he wanted. He didn't want to have to be the guy who defended anyone who was called a fag or to speak up every time someone said something was "gay" but meant it sucked.

Would people expect that of him? Would him rolling his eyes at that suddenly no longer be interpreted as, "you're such a child," but instead as, "it's stupid, but I don't really mind, and I'm gay, so that makes it okay"?

And what would it say if they were out but never openly affectionate? Would they be cowards? Would they be listening to the homophobes that insisted mere visibility was shoving their sexuality in everyone's face?

Would they be the non-straight kids that were held up as an example to those fabulous guys with their lisp and hand gestures and pink shirts? Would others point at them and say, "Why can't you be more like them? _They_ don't bother us."

John hated that he even had to consider all of this. If Rodney were a girl, they could be together and nobody would care. He might get teased for choosing such a smart ass as his girlfriend, but that would be just his buddies. Nobody else would even notice.

This was the thing. If they had won a game and everyone's girlfriend came down to hug and kiss them, Rodney would be like a huge neon sign pointing at them. People who didn't even know their names would stare at them, and they'd have an _opinion_. It might not even all be a bad opinion, but it would be something based solely on the fact that they were two guys.

And no matter what else John did during that game, people would remember that kiss. He'd be the gay football player, not the safety with that amazing interception. Even those that really do care more about the game would probably say, "Oh, and turns out he has a _boyfriend_."

Rodney was right. It wasn't as simple as saying, "I'm fine with people knowing I'm not straight." Because they wouldn't just _know_. They'd suddenly _act_ differently around him.

And John wasn't sure he was ready to deal with that. Especially when Rodney seemed to be okay with not coming out.

This wasn't a final decision. John didn't want to forever live a lie. He wasn't going to tell people he just hadn't found the right girl and the guy living with him was just a roommate. But he was far from that situation. Rodney wasn't his life partner. He also was more than just a friend. But there was a wide range between those extremes and thinking about _that_ seemed even worse than considering the politics of coming out, so he decided to just let it be for now and see if his gut told him anything in the next days or weeks and if Rodney really didn't care or would ask John again.

~~

John thought about coming out at various times. He thought about it when he and Rodney were teasing each other at school and it was the kind of moment that ended up with them kissing if they were alone. Could he imagine doing the same at school? Then there were the jokes about Rodney being his girlfriend. It was nothing but a running gag by now, but John couldn't help wondering what would happen if he set them straight.

None of these thoughts sounded like a nightmare, but they did nothing to convince John that coming out would be the right thing to do.

Rodney hadn't brought it up again, and he was very good at needling or even hounding someone when he wanted something, so it couldn't be important to him. John felt a bit like a coward that he was relieved by that.

But it gave him an out, and he took the opportunity to leave things as they were, which was very good all things considered.

Since his relationship with his father had improved so much, he didn't really mind spending Christmas break with both his father and his brother at a ski resort. Rodney was making fun of that of course, but he was happy that John didn't dread the time with his family for once.

John liked skiing and snowboarding and spent most of the day on the slope. They went out in the evenings. There were restaurants and various forms of entertainment at the resort and the surrounding town. One evening he went out with his brother alone, going to a club.

Dave talked a bit about pranks that their father didn't need to know about and annoying teachers and eventually asked John, "You still haven't found a girlfriend?"

"Have you?" John countered, well aware that Dave hadn't talked about any girl in particular.

"No," Dave said. Before John could give him a look of "there you go", Dave went on. "But there's one girl. We've...tried a few things."

"My little brother is messing around with girls," John said.

"Watch who you're calling little," Dave said.

"You'll always be my little brother," John teased.

"And you'll always be a pain in the ass," Dave said.

"I don't have a girlfriend," John said. "But I've also 'tried' a few things."

"Really?" Dave asked. "You never mentioned anyone."

"Actually, I did. It's Rodney," John said, holding his breath.

"Oh," Dave said. After a long moment, he repeated. " _Oh_."

"Yeah," John only said. "Want another coke?"

~~

Even though he'd enjoyed vacation with his family for once, he was glad to be home again.

Dave hadn't asked any more about Rodney, and John hadn't volunteered any further information. John was quite fine with that. Dave's reaction hadn't been negative, and that was all he'd cared about.

Still when he met up with Rodney again, he couldn't help bringing it up. "I told my brother about us."

"What did you tell him?" Rodney asked.

"He wanted to tease me about not having a girlfriend, so I teased back, and he said that he was, I guess, experimenting with someone. So I said that I was too. And I mentioned that it was you. That's it," John said.

"Your brother is also not straight?" Rodney asked.

"Oh no," John clarified. "It's a girl. He's straight as far as I know."

"Ah, okay," Rodney said.

There was a silence that was stretching.

"It's great that you feel comfortable coming out to your family," Rodney eventually said. "Okay, is this one of the times where you don't want to talk about something but think that you should so you're waiting for me to force you? Like talking to your father?"

"I didn't _wait_ for you to do that," John said. "Though I'm glad you did," he added.

"Right, but what about this? I can only assume this is about coming out to more than your family. Do you want me to _force_ us to talk about it? Because I can if that's what you need," Rodney said.

John squirmed. "No," he said. "Unless you want to say something."

"I have nothing more to say," Rodney said. "I told you I'm fine either way."

He had, John recalled. And he'd never brought it up again, but there was something that made John think it wasn't completely irrelevant to Rodney. He still didn't want to discuss it, but he felt the need to know. "Do you have a _preference_?"

"I prefer whatever allows us to keep doing this," Rodney said.

John blinked. Rodney was afraid of losing him? John wondered what it said about his own ego that it had never occurred to him that Rodney might stop this, while Rodney—who considered himself superior to everyone in almost all things—had apparently given this at least a cursory consideration. He suddenly had to smile and kissed Rodney on the cheek, hugging him.

"We'll not stop doing this either way," John assured him.

Rodney frowned. "So?"

"Nothing," John said sheepishly. "I'm still thinking about it. You were right—surprise, surprise, I know. It's not that simple."

Rodney only nodded. Then he put his hand behind John's neck and pulled him into a deep kiss.

~~

The next months flew by. They _didn't_ come out at school and didn't discuss it again. Things were going so well, and John still felt ambiguous about coming out, and he thought this was something that he should be sure about before he did it. Once he was out, there was no going back, and he'd be left with regret if that was how he'd end up feeling. He didn't want to risk it.

Rodney and Jeannie were going to spend summer break with their father again, and John didn't look forward to a repeat of nearly three months apart.

It was his father who brought up his vacation plans. "Are you taking a summer job again? We could go on vacation together again with your brother if you don't mind, or did you want to visit Rodney?"

It had never occurred to John that he could visit Rodney, but now that his father suggested it, it sounded like something worth considering.

Rodney was surprised when John asked him the next day.

"If you think it's a bad idea..." John trailed off.

"No, it would be great. I'll have to ask my dad," Rodney said. "Where did you want to stay?"

"Uh." John hadn't given that any thought at all.

"If Jeannie and I take separate rooms—and there's no way in hell I'm sharing with her—there's no additional guest room," Rodney said. "You could share my room, but there's only one bed, and my dad won't care, but he'll ask, and if he knows, Jeannie will know."

Jeannie was still in a different school, and even if she told Rodney's mom, John didn't think it would be an issue for him. "That's fine."

"Okay, then I'll ask my father."

~~

Two weeks into their summer break John flew to Vancouver to join Rodney and Jeannie.

They'd chatted every day during that time, but John was still looking forward to seeing him again. And he was a bit nervous about meeting Mr. McKay. He was there with Rodney and Jeannie to pick John up at the airport.

He gave John a once-over when he saw him, and John felt approval when Mr. McKay shook his hand and said, "It's good to finally meet you in person." They'd caught glimpses of each other via video chat, but this was different.

"Thank you, sir. It's good to meet you too," John said.

"'Sir'?!" Rodney asked.

John cringed. That might have a been a bit too much, but addressing people as sir and madam to show respect had been drilled into him so much it was ingrained now.

"Please call me Andrew," Mr. McKay said. "And I hope 'John' is fine with you."

"Of course, Andrew," John said. "Hey, Jeannie."

"Hi, John," Jeannie piped up, grinning.

Rodney leaned closer and whispered. "She said she knew the whole time, but I don't really believe her."

John grinned, then he softly said, "Hey."

Rodney flushed slightly. "Hey."

Suddenly it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to close the distance between them. It was just a quick kiss, but Rodney's eyes widened and his mouth formed an "oh".

"Let's get home then, shall we?" Andrew said. "Rodney, you can help John with his luggage."

~~

After unpacking his things, John took a look around the house. Decorations were sparse, except for a few plants, and John didn't spot any pictures on the walls. He wasn't sure if Andrew had removed them after the divorce or if Rodney's mother had taken them when they'd left. Not that he recalled ever seeing pictures of Rodney and Jeannie at their new place. Maybe the McKays had never been into taking photos of their kids. John decided not to ask.

When they were done with the tour of the house, Rodney showed him the science projects he'd completed in the past—and one that he'd started on—and eventually led John into the kitchen.

"It's my turn to cook," he said, making a face. "And since you're here because of me, I'll commandeer you as kitchen aide. Can you peel the potatoes?"

"I think I'll manage if you tell me where to find them," John said.

Rodney directed him to the cellar. When John came back with the potatoes and started peeling them, Rodney was still only looking at him.

"Is this the thing where you do the 'hard' work of delegating, and I do everything else?" John asked.

"No, just wanted to check if you know how to peel a potato," Rodney said. When he realized that Rodney was serious, John glared at him.

"Just because we have a housekeeper doesn't mean I haven't learned basic survival skills," he said.

"So what can you cook?" Rodney asked.

"I can do eggs sunny-side up without breaking the yolk," John said proudly.

Rodney gave him a look. "I'm sure the Michelin stars are already in the mail."

"I _know_ there's...let's say opportunity for growth in this area," John said. "But I'm taking the chance now, right? Tell me what to do once the potatoes are peeled, and I'll do it."

"So I _am_ the delegator?" Rodney said, perking up. "This could be the beginning of me enjoying cooking."

"I said potatoes, not everything. You can still do whatever else we'll have," John said.

Rodney deflated. "You just cook them in a pot of water with a bit of salt. Oh, and cut them into smaller pieces. I'll make some meatballs and cauliflower."

"Interesting combination," John said.

"Let me know when you volunteer to do it all, Alton Brown," Rodney said, opening the fridge.

John grinned and continued peeling. They talked about this and that, and John asked what Rodney was doing every now and then. He hadn't lied. Cooking was on his list of things to learn before college, and with one year left in high school it was high time he moved on from ramen and heated canned goods.

When the potatoes were cooking, John was free to hover behind Rodney. "Looks good," he said. Rodney turned to him, and John looked at him instead of the food and grinned. Rodney rolled his eyes, but one corner of his mouth was tugging up.

John wasn't sure if it was the two weeks apart or puttering around in the kitchen all domestic, but he felt the urge to kiss Rodney, and since there was no good reason not to, he leaned a little closer and captured Rodney's lips with his own.

Rodney kissed back, turning in John's arms until they were really kissing. They kissed for a while until Rodney suddenly pushed him away and turned back to the pan. "Shit, they're getting all burned. Stop distracting me." He quickly turned the meatballs over. "At least for now," he added, turning to John with a seductive grin. "Feel free to distract me all you want later in bed."

That grin didn't exactly make it easier to keep a distance, so John asked what else he could do to keep himself from jumping Rodney then and there.

~~

After dinner, Rodney quickly pulled John away. "We cooked, you take care of the dishes!" Before Jeannie could protest, Rodney had grabbed their jackets and was out the door with John.

"And now?" John asked.

"I can show you around," Rodney said. The evening air was fresh, though not unusually so according to Rodney. "This _is_ Canada, in case you forgot." John only gave him a look.

They walked through the neighborhood towards Rodney's old school, but before they arrived, Rodney said, "I have an idea."

John waited for him to explain, but Rodney only grinned and walked a bit faster. After a few blocks, they stood in front of an ice rink.

"Come on. I can show you how to skate," Rodney said.

"What makes you think I don't know?" John asked.

"Then I can race you," Rodney challenged him.

John didn't say anything. The truth was, he'd only skated a few times in his life and the last time had been a while ago. They rented skates and got on the ice. Rodney looked expectantly at him.

"It's been a while. Give me a round or two," John grumbled, trying not to fall on his ass immediately.

Rodney laughed and was off at a fast pace. John didn't even try to follow, going slowly instead and trying to remember how this worked. He looked around, but people were moving as if this was natural.

"Need any help?" Rodney asked, skating past, but John only flipped him off, making Rodney laugh again.

John tried to move a bit faster. He vaguely recalled that it had kind of felt like swimming. Hmm, yes, he was getting into the groove here. Rodney came back around again, turning effortlessly and looking at John.

John was not to be outdone, so he picked up even more speed. He was ready to stick out his tongue at Rodney when one foot slipped a bit further then it should have and he lost his balance landing ass first on the ice.

Rodney circled back to him. "You do know it's _ice_ skating, not _ass_ skating?"

John tripped him up just to get rid of the smug look on Rodney's face. It worked, but unfortunately Rodney chose to use John to break his fall. "Uff," John said. Then he cuffed Rodney who was giggling.

"I offered to help!" Rodney said.

"Then help me up," John ordered.

Rodney started laughing. John was about to tell him that it wasn't funny, but Rodney's laugh was kind of infectious.

"Admit it. You just took me here to see me fall on my ass," John said.

Rodney grinned. "I like you on your ass."

John cupped Rodney's face with his hand. His nose and ears were slightly red from the cold. His grin softened into a smile. Without thinking about it, John lifted his head and pulled Rodney into a kiss.

It was a deep, but relatively quick kiss, then John moved back to look at Rodney's reaction. Rodney looked speculative, but didn't say anything.

"You're really no lightweight," John eventually said when Rodney got too heavy.

Rodney moved off and helped him up. "Come on," he said and took John's hand. Then he slowly started skating, giving John the chance to catch up. Stabilized by Rodney's hand, John managed to pick up pace until they could skate around the rink at a nice slow pace.

They didn't do anything fancy and nearly fell a few times, but it was fun. After a while John's feet hurt, though. "Can you give me a moment?"

They skated to the boards, and Rodney asked, "Your feet, huh?"

John only made a face, lifting one foot and moving it.

"We can leave," Rodney said. "Just let me do a few rounds to show off."

John snorted at Rodney's honesty. Rodney smiled, then put his hands on the boards behind John and quickly kissed him before skating off again. John noticed a guy a bit further away staring at him, and when he turned, there were two girls grinning and whispering to each other. He turned back to watch Rodney. He'd never see these people again. And even if he did, he didn't care about what they thought.

Rodney made a few fast rounds, switching from skating forward and backward, then came to a stop in front of John spraying ice at him. "Asshole," John said, then pulled him close into a kiss, making sure that some of the ice transferred to Rodney's clothes.

"Let's get you out of the skates," Rodney said.

John leaned closer. "You can get me out of all you want," he whispered.

"And I plan to as soon as we're home," Rodney promised, taking John's hand and dragging him towards a rink exit.

~~

That night, Rodney fucked him twice. John fell asleep, one arm thrown over Rodney's body, feeling exhausted, but very happy and content.

The days continues like that. They worked on Rodney's experiments, sometimes with Jeannie, sometimes alone; they did household chores together; they played games or watched Canadian TV—the latter of which mostly with the whole family.

They also went on a few day trips to museums and other sights in Vancouver. John sent his dad and his brother postcards. It was the best vacation he could remember in a long time.

Even better than spending his days with Rodney was spending each night with him. It was surprisingly easy to get used to another person sleeping next to John. It wasn't just the sex that made it great—they'd frequently had sex before after all—but talking late into the night about silly, absurd, interesting, and rarely, serious things.

They didn't talk about coming out at school again. Without ever discussing it, they made no secret of their relationship wherever they went during their vacation. They didn't walk around holding hands or made out on park benches, but when they saw something they sometimes stroked the other's hand instead of just pointing, and when they moment felt right, they shared a quick kiss.

Just like on the ice rink and at the air port, John initiated the first few times, but Rodney soon seemed to understand that John was fine with being open about their relationship here.

They got a few looks—and once slurs shouted after them—but John didn't give it any thought at all. He didn't care about strangers. And he didn't want to ruin his vacation by thinking about his school mates back home.

The three weeks were over far too soon. "I wish I could stay longer," he confessed to Rodney a few nights before his flight would take him home.

"But you can't?" Rodney asked.

"Uh," John said. "I can't really expect your dad to put up with me for the full three months."

"It's only six more weeks," Rodney pointed out.

"Don't think he'd like to have a few more weeks with just the two of you?" John asked.

"Why?" Rodney asked. "We're doing exactly what we did when you weren't here. Except maybe I didn't go to bed so early. But it's not like we had some deep father son conversations that stopped when you arrived."

"I wouldn't want to impose," John said. It just seemed like asking a lot let your son's friend stay the whole summer.

"Let's just ask him, okay?" Rodney suggested.

"Okay," John said. "But I should first ask my father. I don't think he had anything planned, but..."

"You don't want to risk the good thing you've got going," Rodney finished for him.

"Yeah," John admitted. "Without his suggestion, I might not even be here."

"And what a horrible thought that is," Rodney said, pulling John closer.

~~

Andrew's answer was, "Sure. You're doing a much better job at cleaning than Rodney."

"Thanks, Dad," Rodney said flatly. Then he turned to John and whispered, "I told you so."

John only grinned and then went to move his return flight to the same one that Rodney and Jeannie would take.

They spent the rest of their summer break like the weeks before, with a three day trip to a hut thrown in, during which John got to try woodchopping. Rodney made fun of his attempts, but since he was so turned on by John's display of manliness that he fucked John over the kitchen table, John counted it as a win. They also had sex on a rug in front of the fireplace, though John preferred the time they'd shared a hot bath after staying outside to look at the clear sky.

Leaving Canada behind after so many happy weeks was bittersweet. He'd miss it, but he had to admit that he was looking forward to seeing his team again, his father, and he'd missed his housekeeper's cooking.

"It was good to meet you," Rodney's father told John when they left.

Even after living over two months under his roof, John didn't know what to think of him. He was smart but detached in a different way than Rodney's mother. The few times he'd asked what they'd done during the day, he hadn't really seemed interested in the answer—unless it was related to science.

But he'd welcomed John in his home, and never once made John feel as if he wasn't what he'd hoped for for his son. Instead of speculating on whether or not he really just didn't give a damn about his son, John chose to take it at face value and be grateful.

His father and Rodney's mother were waiting to pick them up at the airport. They only politely shook hands when they were introduced to each other. Jeannie hugged her mother, and strangely John felt the impulse to do the same with his father. After a moment, he gave in and gave him a quick squeeze.

Patrick was visibly surprised but then smiled and put his hand on John's shoulder.

"Do you have everything?" Ms. Jenkins asked her children.

"We can go, Mom," Rodney said. "Mr. Sheppard," he said with a nod.

Patrick nodded back. "I'll call you tomorrow or later," John quickly said. Then he leaned forward and kissed Rodney without even thinking about it.

It was only when he pulled back and saw Rodney's wide eyes and the mild surprise on his father's and Ms. Jenkins' face that he realized that they'd never kissed outside of their rooms back here.

Ms. Jenkins either wasn't really surprised or managed to compose herself very quickly. She said goodbye to John and Patrick and left, not waiting for her children, who quickly picked up their bags and followed.

Patrick gave John an understanding look, and the two of them walked towards the exit where Patrick had parked the car.

"I missed you," Patrick confessed with a quick side glance at John.

John looked at him and smiled. "I might have missed you a little bit too."

"Oh, please," Patrick said. "I'm sure your mind was on other things than your old father. In any case, I should get used to it. Soon enough it'll be just me."

"It's not like I'll be out of your life," John said. Then he bumped his shoulders with his father.

Patrick sighed and put his arm around his son.

~~

John played a round of golf with his father the next morning, and when Rodney called to tell him that he once again had to go shopping with Jeannie, John didn't decline Rodney's joking offer to join them.

He'd gotten used to having Jeannie around as well, so John didn't mind, even though Rodney complained endlessly.

It was a relaxing last day of vacation as far as John was concerned, and he promised to pick up Rodney the next day.

John was in a good mood the next morning. He drove fast enough for Rodney to throw creative insults at him, and they arrived quite early only to be greeted by Jerry.

"Dude, where have you been all summer?" he asked. "Did you elope with your girlfriend or what?"

Rodney got out of the car as well, rolled his eyes dramatically, and flipped him off.

Jerry only grinned, then turned back to John. "The guys are waiting for you."

"Of course they are," Rodney muttered as he walked past John. "See you later."

"Hey," John said, catching him by his arm.

Rodney stopped and looked at him. Unlike at the airport, this time it wasn't a complete accident. John didn't really think about it, but he was aware of what he was doing. He quickly leaned forward and kissed Rodney.

"Whoa," Jerry said behind him, but John's eyes were on Rodney who stared at John open-mouthed.

"See you later," John said, squeezing Rodney's arm, then turning to Jerry.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Rodney walking on and disappearing in the crowd.

"So _this_ is what you did all summer?" Jerry asked.

"I was in Canada with Rodney and his sister at their father's place," John said.

"His _father's_ place? I was _kidding_ about eloping!" Jerry said.

John gave him a look. "We're _not_ married. Didn't you say something about the guys?"

"Oh, just wait 'til they hear this," Jerry said, rushing off.

John followed, nervous about the first real fallout of what he'd just done.

When Jerry joined the others, he started waving to get everyone's attention. "John's officially playing for the other team."

Some were surprised, some confused.

"He just kissed his girlfriend goodbye before class," Jerry said, only adding to the confusion. "I mean _McKay_."

That cleared up the last doubt.

"So you and McKay..." Chris asked, looking uncomfortable.

"Yeah," John said. "Is that a problem?"

"No problem," Chris said. "As long as you can still play."

"Why wouldn't I? You think sucking cock makes me unable to run and catch?" John asked sharply.

"TMI, dude," Jerry said.

"Besides, I'm not doing anything I haven't done last year. Didn't impact my form, did it?" John asked.

"It's all cool," Luke piped up, trying to diffuse the tension. "So how was your summer break?"

"Honeymoon in Canada," Jerry said, grinning.

John sighed. It was going to be a long day.

~~

It _was_ a long day, but all in all his team was cool with him and Rodney as a couple. They made jokes, but he had to admit that many of those jokes or similar ones would have been made if he'd suddenly kissed a girl. And the rest were not much worse than the teasing he'd gotten before about Rodney.

There were a few times the line was crossed as they tested out how far they could go, but if there wasn't a quick hit in the ribs by one of the less douchey guys, then a "Not cool, dude" look by John was enough to put a stop to it.

Outside of his team, there wasn't much reaction at all. Word had spread to some places at least, because on his way to lunch someone called "Hey fag" after him. He promptly answered with "Hey asshole" and that was that.

The next days showed that John really didn't have anything to worry about. He shouted back insults at the occasional slurs, and nobody was stupid enough to physically threaten a member of the football team.

For the most part, he didn't act differently around Rodney. Now, when he slapped the back of Rodney's head in annoyance, he could leave his hand there and stroke his neck afterwards without worrying what people might think. He also felt free to give Rodney flirty looks sometimes. When he felt like it, he also kissed Rodney, though those occasions were rare.

Once Rodney ranted so much about an incorrect grade, that John told him, "Will you shut up if I offer to suck your cock?"

That shut Rodney up—as well as everyone in the vicinity. There were stares, and some of them obviously interested. "I didn't mean _now_ , pervs," John said.

Rodney raised an eyebrow and leaned closer. "What _did_ you mean?" he whispered. "It's not like I can't ask for a blow job anytime outside of school."

John snorted. "Shut you up, didn't it?"

Rodney leaned even closer. "You owe me a blow job."

John refused to go down on Rodney at school, but the car was fair game, though after experiencing it once, Rodney concluded, "Bed is more comfortable."

They didn't kiss after games, so that was nothing John had to be concerned about it. His other worries about being held to a different standard now did come into play, but John was able to handle them.

"Why do they have to flaunt it?" Chris once asked when one of the more feminine out guys came across them.

"Why do you have to flaunt being a football player?" John asked back.

"I don't," Chris denied. John gave him a look. "It's not all about football all the time. But _that_ guy..."

"He's just _walking_ ," John pointed out.

"His walk is _swishy_ ," Chris said distastefully.

"What's the problem with it? Why can't he walk the way he likes?" John asked.

"Look, I'm not telling him he can't walk that way. Do you see me stop him? But it's _flaunting_ ," Chris insisted. " _You_ don't walk like that."

"I'm not him. I also don't wear red shirts or three hundred dollar sneakers," John said, picking something that Chris did that John wouldn't do. "So what?"

"He means you're also sucking cock," Jerry said.

"Thanks, Jerry," John said sarcastically. "The point is I have things in common with 'that guy' and with you guys and with any number of people, but I'm still me, and you are you, and he's whoever he is." John nodded after the guy who'd prompted Chris' comment.

"I'm not saying he isn't or doesn't have a right to be," Chris said. "I'm just saying he's flaunting it, and that's annoying."

"But what do you expect him to do to _not_ be annoying?" John asked. "If you say stop 'flaunting' it, then you _do_ expect him to change just to fit _your_ expectations."

"But he's doing it on purpose!" Chris said. "I'm not asking for him to stop being gay. If he likes sucking cock, that's his problem. But he can do that and still act normal."

"'Normal'? What is that even supposed to mean?" John asked.

"Just let it go, John," Jerry said.

"You know what normal means," Chris went on. "You act normal."

"You mean I act within some arbitrary rules that were set for guys," John said. "Except I don't. Normal guys shouldn't play football and have another _guy_ waiting in the bleachers for them. If he's abnormal, then so am I."

"I never called you abnormal," Chris said more quietly. "I don't even think that. I mean the whole thing with McKay is weird, but, well, it's just the way it is for you, I guess."

"It is," John confirmed. "It's okay to be a little weird. Isn't there anything about you that you'd never tell people because it doesn't fit the image of the hot shot linebacker?"

"I don't know when to shut up," Jerry piped up.

Chris was quiet, so John said, "Even if there's nothing, maybe you could _imagine_ there being—"

"I like puzzles," Chris said suddenly.

"You mean like riddles?" John asked. Rodney was into word games. It would be almost funny if they had that in common.

"No, I mean like actual puzzles. Putting pieces together on a table," Chris clarified.

As far as non-stereotypical behaviors went, this was pretty tame, but John took what he could get. "See? And there's nothing wrong with that. Wouldn't it be nice if you didn't have to feel weird about talking about that? You might even find others who're into the same thing, but you'd never realize if everyone made it a secret just because it's uncool or unmanly or something."

"Are you into puzzles?" Chris asked.

"Not particularly. I can't remember when I last did one," John said.

"Never had the patience for them," Jerry said.

Chris sighed. So did John. He wasn't sure he'd been able to make his point convincingly.

Thankfully he mostly didn't even have to say anything to make people less homophobic. Simply being present had reduced the amount of times he'd heard things being called 'gay' as an insult. And if being there wasn't enough, there were others willing to point more or less subtly at John when people were casually homophobic.

It was more amusing to John than anything else. Less amusing was the eager way Laurel from the Gay Straight Alliance approached him about joining.

"Uh," he said.

She went on to talk about the activities they were planning and how much they'd like to have John among them.

"I'm really busy," John managed to say. "Between football and chess and the drama club...I still want to be able to spent some time with Rodney." It wasn't technically a lie, though he only spent a very limited time playing chess and helping out in the drama club.

Laurel looked so devastated that John almost changed his mind, but then he thought about Laurel's kind of enthusiasm ten-fold with her friends. He just wasn't cut out for that. Thankfully she accepted his excuse.

"Well, if you ever need something or your schedule lightens up..."

"I'll let you know," John assured her.

Later that afternoon, he asked Rodney if she'd ever approached _him_ about joining.

"I told her I didn't need to join a club to tell homophobes where to shove it," Rodney said.

"I'm not sure that's the main point of the GSA," John said.

"Well, I need a club to sing Kumbaya even less," Rodney said.

John didn't think Rodney would have fit into the GSA anyway.

The most tense situation after John's coming out came when he ran into Tom. They awkwardly stared at each other for a moment. Then Tom said, "I'm glad you figured things out."

"Yeah," John only said. Inwardly he sighed in relief. He'd feared that Tom might ask why he couldn't have figured it out _before_ their kiss. But the truth was, Tom wouldn't have been what Rodney now was either way.

Little moments here and there were the extent of the noticeable changes after John's coming out at school. The most important difference wasn't what happened at school, though, but rather in the way John didn't have to think about when and how to come out anymore. Ever since he'd talked about it with Rodney it had been at the back of his mind, even when he'd decided to leave things as they were for the moment.

Now there was no need to ignore it or tell himself it was okay, because he'd actually done it and it _was_ okay. In fact, everything was more than okay. It was pretty much perfect.

Or so he thought.

~~

It was his father who asked Rodney one day during dinner, "So, are your plans still the same? Going to MIT to study astrophysics and engineering?"

"Of course," Rodney said. "There's only a limited amount of material we can submit as our portfolio, so that's what I'm working on right now."

Patrick looked over to John, but didn't say anything.

"I _know_ , Dad," John said. He still hadn't yet decided what to do after high school. He'd love to fly—fast planes and helicopters—but being a commercial pilot didn't sound very thrilling, and as tempting as joining the military was after DADT had been repealed, John wasn't eager to spend six months a year in the Middle East with a non-negligible possibility that he wouldn't return.

Neither his father nor Rodney explicitly asked about John's plans that evening, but John knew that he _should_ think about what he wanted to do with his life.

He loved flying, but he also loved learning, math, and science. Part of it was spending so much time with Rodney who thrived on those things, but John had always liked discovering how the world worked physically.

On a whim he checked the MIT website, looking at the process Rodney was currently going through. He landed on the page listing majors and minors. Right at the top was a link to AeroAstro and the BS in Aerospace Engineering.

John looked around the site and got engrossed in reports from the labs. Eventually he found himself back on the page with admission information. He knew that he wasn't a genius like Rodney, and he'd only helped with the little experiments Rodney had done during the summer, but the site mentioned several times that you didn't have to fulfill special requirements in terms of extracurricular activities—and he had done all the recommended high school subjects—as long as you loved learning and challenges and creativity.

His ego wasn't as big as Rodney's, but he thought he had a shot at this.

~~

"I've been thinking about applying to MIT," John told Rodney the next afternoon when they hung out in Rodney's room. "Did you know that their university aerospace program is the oldest in the US?"

Rodney looked confused. "Aerospace? MIT?"

"I'm thinking about studying Aeronautical Engineering at MIT," John said. Rodney only looked at him as if he still didn't understand.

"You want to go to MIT," Rodney said flatly, which was not at all how John had pictured his reaction. Sure, he'd expected some teasing, but overall he'd thought Rodney would be happy if not ecstatic to hear this news. This was obviously not the case.

"You don't think I could get in?" John asked, slightly defensively.

"No," Rodney said. "I mean...I don't know. I'm just surprised. You never mentioned anything before." He still seemed to be in the process of comprehending what John had said.

"I hadn't seriously looked into it until yesterday. I looked at the majors at MIT, and it seemed like a good fit," John said.

"Yeah, I can...see it. Combining math and flying sounds like you," Rodney said, a quick smile appearing and disappearing again on his face. "But...you only looked at MIT? It's not the only place where you can study Aeronautical Engineering."

"It's among the best if not _the_ best. It's all about learning and creating and working together. Like we already did all summer only a lot cooler," John said brightly. Then he added as an afterthought, "and with homework." It wasn't like he didn't know it was going to be hard work. He wasn't naive.

"I... Let me get this straight. In this scenario, we're both accepted at MIT, and we'd still be...together," Rodney said.

It was John's turn to look confused. Why would Rodney doubt that as their possible future? It dawned on John that it wasn't John's academic credentials or lack thereof that troubled Rodney. "You think we wouldn't be...together?"

"I..." Rodney stopped, taking a few steps up and down the room. "I had assumed that after high school we'd go our separate ways."

"Oh," John said. He didn't know what to think of that. It was one thing not to think about the future as he had, but to consider it and then come to the conclusion that it would end just like that was something else.

"Let's be real here," Rodney went on. "The chances that high school romances last are minimal even when both parties believe that they'll be together _forever_ , and can you honestly say that you think we will?"

"Uh," was all that John got out before Rodney continued.

"Realistically, it's not likely. There's a high chance we'll break up. This is _MIT_. Unlike here there'll be a lot of smart, interesting people to meet. And when it happens and we went there as a couple, made friends together, maybe even lived together, it would end in...awkwardness at best and heart break at worst. We'd lose what we built up in freshman year, and then we'd have to start over. It makes the most sense to cut our losses now and make a clean break."

"Clean break," John said tonelessly.

"I'm trying to be _rational_ about this," Rodney said, lifting his chin.

"Rational?" John asked, suddenly getting angry. "I thought you'd be _happy_ about the idea of us going to MIT together. But you're not just _not_ happy. You don't even... God, you don't even want us to _see_ each other anymore."

"It's not that I don't _want_ it. But trying to pretend that we'll live happily ever after is not better," Rodney said.

"'Pretend'? So this is just a high school thing? Was that _always_ what you thought this was?" John had to ask.

Rodney only looked at him.

"I don't know what to say," John admitted. "I have to—"

"Think about it," Rodney finished for him. "You do that." There was a slight edge to it.

John was still angry, but instead of saying something he might regret, he left.

~~

By the time John got home he was even more angry. Angry and disappointed and something he couldn't put his finger on.

He repeated Rodney's words in his head. That it was rational and realistic. It seemed none of those things to John. As far as John was concerned they had a great thing going, and John's suggestion to also go to MIT had opened the door for them to keep it going. Even if it didn't last—and John wasn't naive enough to think that it had to—making a clean cut was a way to _ensure_ it wouldn't last. Where would they be if scientists never tried anything that didn't have a high likelihood of succeeding?

It wasn't just that it didn't make sense to John to break up pre-emptively for absolutely no good reason other than nebulous doubts about the future. It was more what it said about Rodney's feelings about their relationship that he took it as given that it would end when they graduated from high school. And not in a pragmatic way where it was the only real option because they were going to move to different parts of the country and long distance wasn't sustainable for several years.

No, John had presented him the option to stay together on a silver platter, and Rodney had said, "No, thanks." Actually, he hadn't even thanked him. It had been more along the lines of, "What is this? I've ordered something else."

It hurt.

It hurt even more so because Rodney seemed so casual about it. As if he really couldn't care less and only wanted to avoid the awkwardness. As if giving this up meant absolutely nothing to him.

Maybe this was part of why John was so angry. Rodney had been the one suggesting they could come out as a couple. He'd even said he wanted to do whatever allowed them to keep doing this. How was John supposed to take that as anything but an admission that this was important to Rodney?

And suddenly it wasn't even worth doing at all, let alone making sacrifices for it? John felt like hitting something. He didn't know what the fuck was going on.

Either Rodney had never seen anything but a convenient fuck buddy thing between them, or he'd suddenly realized that even if things had been nice with John in high school, his real life would only begin at MIT where he'd meet the really cool people and wouldn't have to make do with someone who was not a complete idiot like his other peers and hot enough to turn Rodney on.

Both options were insulting and infuriating, and if John stayed in his room, he was just going to break something. So he went out to hit golf balls instead.

~~

John was still angry with Rodney the next day, and he was tempted to not pick him up, but he didn't want him to be late, and he didn't want this to be the end of their relationship. He didn't know how to deal with what Rodney had told him yesterday, but unlike Rodney, he wasn't going to take it for granted that it was over—now or at the end of the school year.

Rodney got in the car silently. John didn't greet him and ignored him.

"I wasn't sure you'd pick me up," Rodney said.

John only started driving.

The ride to school was silent, and John got out of the car as soon as they arrived. The rest of the school day continued like that. Every time John looked at Rodney he wanted to shout at him, so he didn't say anything at all and avoided looking at him.

After school they joined up at John's car.

"I can take the bus," Rodney offered.

John got in and waited until Rodney got in as well.

The ride to Rodney's place was silent as well. When they were there, Rodney didn't get out immediately. "Did you actually think about this? It seems like you're just angry with me."

"I wonder why," John said sarcastically.

"Look, just forget about me for a second and think about yourself. What do _you_ want? What do you _honestly_ see happening in our future?" Rodney asked.

John didn't say anything.

"Think about it," Rodney said, then opened the door and closed it behind him.

John stayed in the car for a moment, not looking after Rodney. Then he drove off.

~~

At home, John was still angry. Rodney wanted him to think about his own feelings? About their future?

What was the point when Rodney had made it more than clear that he didn't think there was going to be a future for them. Did he just want John to concede that he was right? Did he want John to admit that he wasn't 100% sure that they were going to last "forever"?

It seemed like a Rodney thing to do. To be smug and say, "See, you think the same thing I do, you're just not taking it to the logical conclusion."

But John wasn't going to play that game. If he said he wasn't sure either that they'd last, Rodney would take that as agreement. If he said he was, he'd be naive and/or lying. There was no way to win.

Fuck that! John went to do his homework. It wasn't as fun as doing it with Rodney, which made him even more angry. Rodney wasn't just throwing away the sexual part of their relationship, but their friendship as well.

John might have been able to see Rodney's point about high school romances. Though even for that there could have been options like opening up their relationship for a time or taking a break from the sexual side of it. But no, he wanted to cut John out of his life completely.

John swallowed the lump of anger and frustration in his throat and quickly finished his homework.

At dinner, his father asked after Rodney. "Is he preparing for his MIT application?" John only shot him a look. "It's been a while since you've been home alone two evenings in a row," Patrick commented.

"We had...a disagreement," John said.

"Oh," Patrick said. He seemed surprised and worried. Despite everything, John was absurdly happy that his father didn't welcome the news of a fight between them.

John asked about his father's work to distract him.

After dinner he started playing GTA IV in his room to keep his mind off Rodney. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when there was a knock.

"What?" he asked. It could really only be his father, and no matter how well things were going with his father in general now, John didn't want to talk with him about Rodney.

The door opened, but it wasn't his father. It was Rodney. His jacket was dripping, and his hair damp.

"Did you take the bike in this weather? You're gonna catch a cold," John said before he remembered that he was mad at Rodney. Even when he did remember, he got up to get a towel for Rodney. He threw it at him, then sat back down at his desk and continued playing.

Rodney took his time drying his hair and hung up his jacket. "I guess getting out of my pants would be inappropriate given the situation," he said.

John rolled his eyes, then got up and got out a pair of sweatpants. "You can change in the bathroom," he said before returning to the game.

Rodney disappeared into the bathroom and came back out a bit later. This was probably the point where he'd finally say what he'd come for. Although since he hadn't immediately started talking as soon as he came in, maybe Rodney wasn't in a hurry either.

This could be the end for them, John knew. He didn't want that, but he also couldn't pretend that Rodney hadn't essentially pissed on their relationship without so much as a Canadian "sorry".

When Rodney sat down on the bed and still didn't speak, John turned to him.

"You didn't think about what I asked you to, did you?" Rodney said.

"You mean whether I believe we'll be together forever? I don't think about things that I know I won't be able to answer," John said defiantly.

"That wasn't what I asked," Rodney said. "I want to know what _you_ want?"

"Why?" John asked. "You've made it clear that continuing our relationship is not an option for you—apparently hasn't been an option for some time now. Why bother thinking about it if it's futile?" John was aware that he was pouting, but he couldn't help it.

"God, you really don't get it," Rodney said.

"No, I don't," John said, not trying to keep his anger in check any longer. "This summer and the months after were... I was _happy_. I thought you were happy too, but apparently I was either wrong or you think MIT will be so great that you don't want to sully it with the awkwardness of having your high school boyfriend tagging along."

"Are you even my high school boyfriend?" Rodney asked.

"What the hell are you talking about?" John asked back. "We're out. What more do you want? Do you want us to wear matching clothes and play tonsil hockey in every break?"

"What more _could_ I want, right?" Rodney said, obviously angry himself, though John didn't have the faintest idea why. _Rodney_ was the one who wanted to end things between them. John had done everything Rodney had asked him to. Maybe it had taken some time, but in the end he'd come through.

"You tell me," John said.

"I want to know that what's going on between us is more than just an accident," Rodney said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" John asked.

"Why did you accept my first offer to have sex? _Was_ there any reason other than having convenient sex with no consequences?" Rodney asked instead of answering.

"I hadn't even really admitted to myself that I wasn't straight yet at the time. You didn't hold it against me back then, and now you suddenly do?" John asked, frustrated.

"No," Rodney said. "But it just goes on like that. When you came out to your father about us—or let me do it—you did it because you wanted him to acknowledge and accept that you might not go on to have the wife and two and a half kids he wanted you to have. It wasn't about _us_. When you were inching out of the closet in Vancouver, did you do it so that we could act like a couple or to test the waters safely away from everyone you knew?"

John couldn't refute what Rodney was saying. "But I came out at school too," he pointed out in his defense.

"Yes," Rodney said. "You made the grande gesture of kissing me the first day of school. And then? No, I don't want to wear matching clothes or make out in public all the time. But have you ever—even once—corrected the guys when they were joking about me being your girlfriend? Have you ever referred to me as your boyfriend to anyone at all?"

"I didn't know that word was so important to you," John said, genuinely not getting what Rodney's problem was. "If you really want me to call you my boyfriend I can do that."

"It's not about the stupid word. It's about what it means," Rodney said, standing up. "It's the difference between being a couple and not hiding that you're occasionally messing around with someone on the side. I'm not even sure if you only came out at school because you thought I wanted it or because you wanted to get it over with or because you wanted to know how people would treat you if they knew. I _do_ know that it's not because you wanted everyone to know how 'happy' you were to be with me. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong."

John didn't know what to say. He was beginning to understand Rodney's side of things, and it didn't feel good to have been so wrong. It felt even worse that Rodney had probably felt like this for some time now.

"You wonder why I don't want to keep doing what we're doing at MIT," Rodney went on. "I _am_ happy for the most part. I don't cry myself to sleep every night. We have fun hanging out. We have great sex. And that's more than many people have in high school, but MIT is where real life begins. I'm confident that I'll excel academically. But relationships? I'm not even sure what I want, but I'd like to know what it feels like to be the guy who's more than just someone who happened to be willing to fuck you."

"You _are_ more than that," John said. He was horrified that Rodney didn't seem to know that.

"Then _what_ am I?" Rodney shouted. " _This_ was what I wanted you to think about. You want to go to MIT to be with me but you can't even fucking say 'I love you'."

"'Love you'?" John repeated in a whisper.

"Yes, I know, the thought never occurred to you," Rodney said bitterly. "You told me that Tom said you're fucked up when it comes to your feelings. I'm not sure that's true, but I can't commit my life to someone who doesn't think beyond next Saturday. I _know_ there's no guarantee that we'll be together even if you promise the moon and the stars and to love me until death do us part, but if you can't even say it once, if you don't even consider it worth thinking about after regularly fucking a person for nearly two years, then I know that you'll never say it. And ten years down the road if we still happen to be together and I'd bring up marriage, you'd get the same confused look as now, and I don't want you to realize then that you're really not into marriage and the idea of commitment. I can't end up in a retirement home for science geniuses and still just hang out and mess around with you. I want more. At least I want a chance for more."

"You've thought about marriage?" John said. The implications of that and everything Rodney had said were still sinking in.

"Yes, I've thought about our future and why _wouldn't_ I want to marry the person I love?" Rodney said.

John gasped.

"Jesus Fucking Christ. Of course I love you. Despite your ridiculous hair, you're smart and hot and funny, and you like the same things that I like, and even if you don't, you do them anyway to indulge me. You don't force me to be into football. You never treat me like the asshole that I am. You're nice to my sister, and you don't pretend that something could fix up my fucked up parents. You're my _friend_ and my..." Rodney struggled to continue.

"Lover?" John suggested, though he could see why Rodney didn't want to use the word.

Rodney took a deep breath and just watched John for a long moment. He looked so defeated it broke John's heart, but he couldn't yet process all of what Rodney had said. "Just think about what you want," Rodney finally said. "Or be honest and say that it's not something you'll ever want to think about. That's fine. Well, it's fucked up, but sometimes that's just the way things are. We can be together until the end of the year. We're both happy with that, aren't we? And about MIT...maybe we could be friends. I just don't know if it wouldn't be too tempting for me to give into your offer to just keep going. If I can't, it's not because I don't want to see you anymore. It would be because I want it too much. I'd miss you like hell. Not just the sex. But I need to do this for me."

John only nodded.

"Okay. I'll leave," Rodney said, picking up his jacket.

John got up as well. "I can drive you."

"It's fine. I'll survive," Rodney said.

"Hey, I don't want to be responsible for you catching pneumonia and depriving the world of your genius," John said, trying a small smile.

Rodney rolled his eyes, but agreed. "Don't blame me for the awkwardness, though."

"Let's just agree to not say anything," John suggested.

"That should work," Rodney said.

And that's what they did.

~~

Driving back in the rain, John still didn't know how to react to Rodney's admission.

Part of him was ashamed and felt guilty that he'd never realized that Rodney loved him and that just like Rodney suspected, John had never wanted to think about his feelings for Rodney. He was also a bit angry at Rodney for never saying anything when he complained loudly and at length about completely inconsequential bullshit. Then there was the dread of having to face his feelings for Rodney.

But there was also a warm feeling of wonder and happiness that Rodney loved him. He was awed that someone like Rodney, who placed the highest importance on matters of the brain, would open his heart like this and find a place in there for John.

He recalled how Rodney had said that friends are overrated back when they'd first started talking to each other. But he'd let John become his friend. And then he'd gone on and fallen in love with him.

John still couldn't get over that. Rodney was in love with him.

He knew that it was kind of ridiculous on paper to be so surprised by this. They'd been together for nearly two years. In high school that was practically a lifetime.

Maybe this _was_ for life. It seemed that despite all his claims of rationality and probability, Rodney would want that. The question was if John wanted the same. And not just in a let's wait and see what happens way. John could understand Rodney's reasoning. He deserved more. He deserved someone who could say, "I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you," even if it might not turn out that way in the end.

The problem was that John wasn't sure he could say that and actually mean it. He had strong feelings for Rodney. If nothing else, his reaction to Rodney's apparent rejection had proven that. He admired Rodney. He felt extremely affectionate towards Rodney when he showed excitement or frustration and sometimes at random moments. He was attracted to him. Actually, he was really turned on by even the thought of having sex with Rodney. He loved the sex they had in many different ways. He appreciated Rodney's humor and honesty.

Everything about Rodney was what John would want in a life partner. He didn't know why his brain couldn't translate that into, "I love him, and I always will."

John tried to think of himself a decade from now, or even two. Would he help building spaceships or planes? Would he still be with Rodney? He could easily imagine such a life.

But when he tried to imagine his wedding day, he suddenly thought of his mother, who wouldn't be there. His father and brother would be happy for him. It might not be exactly what Patrick had wished for, but he would accept that it made John happy.

John tried to imagine himself on is wedding day, happy and in love and looking forward to start the rest of his life with his partner, but it seemed unreal, like fantasies about flying fast planes without wars or customers or anyone telling him what to do.

His mother had told him once when he was little that he could be anything he wanted. "Like an eagle?" he'd asked. She'd smiled at him and said, "If you really want it, maybe even that."

But that wasn't true. Reality existed and with it certain limits that no amount of wishing and hoping would move.

He didn't know why, but it felt to John like perfect happiness with Rodney at his side was one of the things that only existed in fantasy. And that meant that he couldn't tell Rodney what he deserved to be told.

~~

When John picked Rodney up the next day, he felt almost sick. He still didn't know what to tell Rodney. He _wanted_ what Rodney wanted on some level, but he couldn't see it the way Rodney could. It didn't mean that he didn't love Rodney. He didn't know what else to call his feelings for him.

He was simply still overwhelmed by it all.

Rodney got into the car and only said, "Hey."

"Hey," John said back. He started driving off and waited for Rodney to say something.

"History homework was a complete waste of time, don't you think?" Rodney said eventually.

John inwardly sighed in relief. He knew that he was a coward, but every minute of reprieve was good. They kept things casual during the day, talking to each other about school or other students, but as the end of the school day approached, John's heart sank into his stomach, and he felt sick with nerves again.

They drove to Rodney's place after school and went in. When Jeannie saw him, she said, "Oh, hey John. I thought you and Mer had a fight. I'm glad my brother didn't screw up things too much."

"Don't you have homework to do?" Rodney asked.

She stuck out her tongue at him.

They went to Rodney's room, and John wondered if Rodney was going to let it be, that just like with coming out, he'd give John however long he needed to process this.

What Rodney said was, "It's okay. It was a great time, and we'll have until next summer." He didn't look at John as he said it, but his shoulders were hunched.

"Rodney," John said, feeling desperate.

"I _said_ it's okay. What more do you expect from me?" Rodney asked, sounding frustrated.

"I _do_...love you," John said.

"But..." Rodney prompted. "Because the way you say it, there's definitely a but."

"It's not _you_ ," John said. "When I try to imagine my future, I just can't...I can't imagine getting married. And not because I don't want to be married. I just..." He struggled because he _had_ no explanation. "I just can't see it," he finished eventually, looking at Rodney, doubtful that this was in any way satisfying to him.

Rodney frowned. "You want to be married without _getting_ married?"

"I _know_ it doesn't make sense," John said.

"Well, I'm glad we're clear on that," Rodney said.

John gave him a look. Then he said, "I want to be with you. And I _can_ see _that_ many, many years from now."

"In our own house, with a pet and two cars, and _officially_ together—whether married or not?" Rodney asked.

"Yes!" John said. "Playing video games and complaining about work and lazing around on weekends or building something and sex of course. Lots of that."

Rodney came closer and cupped John's face. John moved into it. "I don't understand you, but I _do_ love you," Rodney said.

"And that means?" John asked.

"I'm not sure. But you're way behind on your MIT application. So you better start working on that. Do you even know what you need to do?" Rodney asked.

John smiled. This wasn't a promise that they'd be together, but finally Rodney was as excited about John joining him at MIT as John had hoped he would be.

~~

That afternoon John looked at the immediate steps he'd have to take to apply to MIT. He also decided he'd apply to other universities. He thought he _had_ a chance to be accepted at MIT, but he was realistic enough to acknowledge that he wasn't as likely to be taken as Rodney was. And even _Rodney_ was also applying to Stanford, Berkeley, and Princeton.

They ate downstairs with Jeannie and Rodney's mother and then went up again to do their homework. John couldn't help looking at Rodney every now and then, even when they were writing something down, each in their own notebook.

"What?" Rodney asked when he caught him.

"Nothing," John said.

Rodney looked at him and after a moment put his hand on John's. John gave him a quick smile and they went on working.

When they were done, Rodney sat down on the bed. "So?" he asked.

John sat down next to him. Then he turned and pulled Rodney's face into a kiss. Rodney eagerly responded.

"Why does it feel like it's been forever?" Rodney asked between kisses.

"It's been four days," John answered, which had to be a record for them. "And in the middle it wasn't clear if we'd ever do this again."

"Let's not talk about that now," Rodney said, gently directing John until he lay on the bed. Then he straddled John. John expected him to resume the kissing immediately, but instead Rodney just looked at him for a while. It was a look full of desire and affection, full of _love_. John wondered how he never noticed it before or if Rodney had chosen to hide it.

"Kiss me," John whispered.

Rodney leaned down and pressed his lips to John, opening up for him immediately. John put his arms around Rodney, pulling him close. It was wonderfully intimate to be with Rodney like this. John stroked Rodney's head as they kissed, then moved his hand under Rodney's shirt when the kisses became more urgent.

Eventually, Rodney sat up to take off his shirt, and John followed suit, scrambling out of his shirt. They let the rest of their clothes follow the shirts and came back together, Rodney on top of John, with nothing between them.

They started lightly moving against each other. John loved feeling Rodney's dick harden against him. "So hot," he whispered into Rodney's neck before mouthing it.

Rodney thrust against him and wormed his hand between them, gripping both their dicks at once. "What do you want?"

"You," John said without thinking, his mouth seeking Rodney's again.

"How?" Rodney asked between kisses.

"In me," John said. There was something about taking Rodney deep inside of him that was unlike all the other sex they had.

Rodney fumbled with the nightstand, getting out lube and a condom when he'd finally managed to open the drawer. Then he wasted no time and started preparing John.

John took in the look of concentration on Rodney's face. It wasn't unlike when he soldered something together for one of his projects. It was beautiful how focused Rodney could get. And his nose and cheekbones and amazing blue eyes. And his pale body. And his hard dick.

"What are you thinking about?" Rodney asked.

"That you're beautiful," John said.

Rodney's finger inside him froze. He looked down John's body with a mixture of lust and admiration. "So are you," he said with a cute awkward smile, before resuming to prepare John.

"I'm ready," John told him soon after Rodney had added two more fingers. They'd been having sex regularly enough that he didn't need as much preparation.

Rodney stretched him once more then pulled out his fingers and wiped them on John's stomach. He put on the condom, and John spread his legs and pulled back his knees. He wanted Rodney face to face today. He wanted the closeness of that.

Rodney positioned himself, then slowly pushed into John. "God, you're always, _always_ so wonderfully tight. I'll never get tired of fucking you."

"You better not," John said.

Rodney looked up and John curled his legs around him, pulling him forward. Rodney was much closer now. They were both breathing heavily. Then John clenched around Rodney, and Rodney closed his eyes and started thrusting.

It was a gentle rhythm at first. John let it wash over him as Rodney's movements slowly pushed him higher. When he opened his eyes he saw Rodney looking at him in wonder.

"Say it," John said.

"I love you," Rodney said.

"I know," John said, tightening his legs around Rodney. "I love you too."

"John," Rodney said, pushing into him a little harder.

"Yes," John said. "More."

Rodney's hips took up speed until the rhythm wasn't gentle but punishing.

"God, yes. So fucking good," John moaned. Rodney was hammering his prostate, making John so hard his dick was leaking.

"God, you're so..." Rodney groaned.

"Rodney," John said. He was really close.

Rodney slammed into him with so much force John had to put one hand on the head of the bed to keep from moving. It was glorious. "John!" Rodney froze inside of him and gripped John's dick which was enough to push John over the edge and make him come in several spurts.

Rodney collapsed on top of him, only just managing to slide out of John and throwing the condom away, before he curled into John's side in a panting heap.

John kissed the top of his head. "I love you," he said again. He did.

It wasn't just post-coital bliss. It was that Rodney could make him feel like this, not just when he fucked John, but when they talked or played or studied. He didn't want to lose this. He'd do anything not to give it up.

~~

Back at home John revisited his feelings about the future.

He wanted to be with Rodney. He wanted at least a chance to try it. It was so hard to believe that something he hadn't even thought about a few days ago was suddenly so important. Of course just because he hadn't thought about it, didn't mean that he'd been indifferent to it.

It had simply taken the threat of losing Rodney to force John to face his feelings. And some part of him had always thought that they'd just keep doing what they were doing. And they could. But it needed to be deliberate. John wasn't afraid of commitment. He hadn't lied to Rodney. He could imagine them married, even loved to think that they could last.

But the image of standing in the garden of the large Sheppard grounds below a wedding arch still made John uncomfortable instead of jubilant, no matter how little sense it made to distinguish the wedding from being married.

This wouldn't be a problem if they could just skip ahead straight to married life. John sat up straight on the bed where he'd been lounging. You obviously couldn't skip the wedding, but a huge ceremony with hundreds of guests? Suddenly he thought about a small wedding chapel in Vegas and being married by someone in a Star Trek uniform or something equally geeky.

It was surprisingly easy to imagine _that_ , and in his mind this wasn't his older, more settled self. What he saw was just Rodney and him as they were now. Two young guys in love. They could do it. John wasn't sure about age restrictions, but he'd turn eighteen in a couple of weeks and Rodney just three months later.

They could elope and get married. They could go to university as a married couple. They'd have their small apartment and maybe not a lot of money, but they'd support each other and live and laugh and play and learn together.

They'd grow old together and twenty years from now they'd be middle-aged and would look back on how they'd started and how much more they still had ahead of them. It sounded absolutely amazing.

~~

The next morning the idea of eloping with Rodney still sounded great.

John decided not to tell Rodney until that afternoon, though, because he had no idea how Rodney would react. He was still pretty giddy when he picked Rodney up.

"You're in a good mood," Rodney commented, sounding slightly curious.

John only smiled, then he leaned over to give Rodney a quick kiss. Rodney raised an eyebrow, but John just kept smiling and drove off.

He had a hard time keeping the smile at bay all day, and when they got into the car after school, Rodney said, "Did you take something? You can't have been accepted at MIT already. Or did your father decide to sponsor a new building?"

John frowned, shook his head, then said, "Let's go to my place today."

Rodney tried to tease him all the way home, suggesting more and more outrageous reasons for John's good mood. "It turned out the secret lair and Bat-inventions part of Batman is actually true and it's your father, who wants the pass the helm to you."

John snorted. "Yes, Rodney. Watch out. When I press this button, that tree will keel over to reveal a secret passage to the underground labs."

"I knew it! No normal people who aren't farmers would own so much land," Rodney said.

"The horses are actually sophisticated robots that work as sentries to guard the labs," John went on.

"Obviously, because what else would you disguise your robot army as," Rodney said, laughing.

"Half a dozen is hardly an army," John pointed out.

"That's how many are visible at a time," Rodney countered. "You could keep a hundred more underground."

John tried to imagine an army of robot horses living in a giant underground lair on their property. It was in equal parts awesome and terrifying. He shuddered, but still smiled.

They went to John's room, and Rodney asked, "So are you going to tell me what's up or are you just in a really good mood after our spectacular make-up sex yesterday?"

John grinned, then rapidly closed in on Rodney until he could push him down the bed and crawl on top of him. Rodney put his hands on John's hips and looked up at him expectantly.

"We should get married," John said.

Rodney blinked, then frowned. "You can now 'see' us getting married?"

"Yes," John said. "It's not the what, it's the how it seems. As soon as I stopped imagining a big formal wedding in our late twenties, it was okay."

"Still don't want to live your father's life, even with modifications, huh?" Rodney mused, moving one hand further up and stroking John's arm affectionately.

"I... Maybe it's that exactly," John realized. The wedding arch in the garden was what he imagined his _father_ wanted for John. He just hoped Patrick would come around and be as accepting after they'd eloped as he'd eventually been of John's sexual orientation.

"So how do you see our wedding going now?" Rodney asked.

"Vegas," John blurted out. "It doesn't have to be Vegas. Once you turn eighteen we could just get a license here. Though probably no superhero officiators."

Rodney stopped stroking his arm, and his face fell. "You want us to _elope_ while we're still in high school?"

"Uh," John said. Once again he seemed to have miscalculated Rodney's reaction. He moved to sit down next to Rodney. "We could do it after graduating before we move to Cambridge, I guess."

Rodney sat up as well. "John, I...I'm not gonna get married at eighteen. When I brought up marriage, I meant in the future. And by future I mean after I have my first doctorate, not a few months from now."

John didn't respond for a moment. Then he quietly asked, "Why?"

"'Why?'" Rodney repeated. "We're seventeen. We might be a lot smarter than the average teenager, but we're still pretty hormone-driven, and I just don't think we're ready to make a commitment for _life_."

"But we want to stay together, and if we do, we'll want to eventually get married. We're already in this, hoping it _will_ be for life," John said.

"Yes, but hoping and declaring in front of a judge is not the same. Do you really want to be divorced at nineteen?" Rodney asked.

"I don't want to be divorced at all," John said.

"But it could happen," Rodney said. "I'm not saying it couldn't happen if we wait, but the chances are much higher it will last if we're not just freaking teenagers."

"You hate it when people call you a teenager," John pointed out.

"If it's about my intellect!" Rodney said. "I'm more than willing to concede that there are areas in life where taking age into account makes sense. I mean...what would you think if one of your team mates announced they were going to marry their girlfriend?"

"It's their mistake to make?" John said. "I see your point, but...if we want to try and beat the odds, shouldn't we go all out? And if we fail, it'll be a youthful mistake. If you divorce at thirty, you're divorced. If you divorce at nineteen, you were just a stupid kid." He smiled hopefully at Rodney.

But Rodney didn't seem swayed. "I can't," he said. "I'm sorry. I love you, and it means a lot to me that you would do this, but if we're meant to stay together, if this turns out to be the rare counterexample where your first love is also your last, then we have time to wait. We can get married when we're twenty-five, when we'll have money for a great honeymoon and a nice _small_ wedding with only immediate family and close friends and the confidence that if we made it almost a decade, we'll probably be fine for five more."

"You have a couple more months to think about it," John tried.

"I do," Rodney agreed. "And so have you. A week ago you hadn't even thought about saying I love you, much less I do, and now you can't wait. There's no rush, John. I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm not—" John began but stopped. Part of him _was_ afraid to lose Rodney. His words about making a clean cut were still on John's mind. Maybe he _was_ overreacting—and possibly overcompensating for the last two years. "Twenty-five, you say?"

"I'll have my first PhD by then," Rodney said.

"Maybe I'll still be working on mine," John mused.

" _Dr._ Sheppard, right," Rodney said, clearly disbelieving.

"You think I couldn't get a PhD?" John asked.

"I think you're smart enough but not dedicated enough," Rodney said, brutally honest.

John shrugged. "Maybe you're right," he conceded. "But who knows what will happen in the next seven years."

"We'll go to MIT and everything will change," Rodney said with excitement in his voice.

"Not _everything_ ," John said, putting his hand on Rodney's.

Rodney looked down at their hands. "No. Not everything," he agreed.

~~

Things _were_ different, though. While they didn't behave differently for the most part, John _felt_ different about being with Rodney. The moments of affection that he'd always felt for Rodney were now connected to happy thoughts about their future together. And John felt the commitment he'd made even if they didn't tell anyone about their plans.

John did speak up the next time Jerry jokingly called Rodney his girlfriend. "His name is Rodney. And he's my _boy_ friend."

Jerry seemed genuinely confused for a second. Probably because it had taken John so long to correct him.

John didn't have a problem with calling Rodney his boyfriend. In fact, in his mind he amended his correction to 'my fiancé'. He and Rodney hadn't discussed marriage again. Now that they'd decided to stay together, their university applications were the most important thing on their minds.

At times John was aggravated by Rodney's certainty that he'd be accepted. Yes, he was smart, but so were at least half of the people applying to MIT. And Rodney could be an asshole about...well, anything. John still wasn't sure how he'd gotten recommendations from teachers, because he was pretty sure that half of them hated Rodney and the other half might grudgingly acknowledge how smart he was, but John had a really hard time imagining anyone _gushing_ about Rodney McKay.

John himself was nervous. He could—and would—go to a different university near Rodney, but he knew it wouldn't be the same, and there was a fear that Rodney would become so deeply entrenched in the community at MIT that John would feel like a fifth wheel.

And the more he read and heard about MIT the more he wanted to go. It would be frustrating to hear Rodney talk about it every day—or even worse if he started to censor himself to spare John.

In March Rodney was notified that he was accepted to MIT. He was so blasé about it that John was tempted to hit him instead of congratulating him.

John himself worried more and more as time went on. When the result of his application came, he felt almost sick. He tried to prepare himself for rejection. Less than ten percent were admitted. Why did he assume he was better than ninety percent of the applicants? Before he could start to hyperventilate, he looked at the result.

It was...neither acceptance nor rejection. It was an offer to be placed on the wait list.

John didn't know whether to laugh or cry. More waiting. But at least it meant there was still a chance. Rodney was uncharacteristically quiet about the news. "It's better than a rejection, I suppose," he said.

John wasn't sure if Rodney had secretly thought John would be outright rejected. He didn't ask because he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

Two weeks later, John got accepted to Stanford and Berkeley—along with Rodney who was accepted to all universities he applied to. Even though John was still nervous about his MIT application, he was quite proud of being accepted to at least two prestigious universities.

Rodney made no indication that he might change his original plan of going to MIT, so John didn't bring it up. There was still hope for him anyway.

Patrick, who'd resigned himself to the fact that John didn't want to join the family business, was reasonably proud of him. "It's not Harvard," he said, lifting one corner of his mouth enough to make clear he was joking, "but getting into Stanford or Berkeley is no small achievement. Do you have any preference if MIT doesn't accept you?"

"I, uh, I'm not sure," John said evasively.

"You're not sure if you have a preference?" Patrick asked.

John sighed and said, "I'll probably go to BU," bracing himself for his father's reaction.

"Boston University?" Patrick asked. "Do they even offer Aeronautical Engineering?"

"They offer a concentration for mechanical engineering majors and minors," John said.

"John," Patrick said.

"I know," John said. "It wouldn't be ideal, but—"

"You got into Stanford and Berkeley," Patrick said as if John needed the reminder.

"That's California," John said.

Patrick looked at him for a long moment. "I know that Rodney means a lot to you, but the university you pick could decide the direction your life takes."

"I still have a chance to get into MIT," John said.

"And if you don't?" Patrick asked. "University is only a few years. If...if your relationship can stand the test of time, it will also stand such a distance. I recall you were in contact daily when Rodney was in Canada."

"It wouldn't be the same. And I know that BU is not Stanford or Berkeley, but it's not like it's some tiny community college. Several Nobel Laureates went there," John pointed out, citing one of the scraps of info he'd remembered specifically for this conversation.

Patrick sighed. "I know that you don't want to hear this, but education is only one part of the university experience. The people you'll meet are as important as what you'll learn, maybe even more."

John looked at the table. His father was right. He didn't want to hear this. Even if he had to acknowledge that it was true. "I'll know Rodney," he said defiantly.

"What if..." Patrick began, then stopped for a moment before saying, "You might not always be together."

"I know," John said. "But right now we are. And I want to share my _life_ with him, not just through chats."

"I know that right now it must seem—"

"I want to _marry_ him," John stopped his father.

Patrick's eyes widened in shock. Then he composed himself and said earnestly, "You've only just turned eighteen. And Rodney's still seventeen, isn't he? John, you can't... Don't you think it would be wise to give this proper thought and _time_."

"By the time Rodney turns eighteen, we'll have been together for two years," John said. Before his father could protest, John added, "and you don't have to worry. Rodney agrees with you."

Patrick raised an eyebrow. Then he exhaled. "That's a relief."

John made a face. "I only told you to show you that I'm serious about Rodney. He didn't"—John swallowed, before continuing—"want to stay together after we graduate because he felt that I couldn't..."

"Commit?" Patrick guessed.

"I didn't acknowledge even to myself how much Rodney meant to me until that moment. I love him, Dad. And I know you think I'm just a child and will forget about Rodney—"

"I did not say that," Patrick interrupted him.

"Doesn't mean you don't think it," John countered.

"I know that you're no longer a child. I've realized that a long time ago," Patrick said with feeling. John winced, thinking of the times they'd fought and how he'd made out with Tom in the living room. "And I believe that you genuinely love Rodney now, but there is a possibility that circumstances or the normal process of growing older will move you apart. I don't want you to regret your decision to give up certain opportunities to be closer to him."

"And I don't want to regret that I gave up being with him for a better job opportunity that won't make me as happy as he does," John said. "If you could trade our company for growing old with Mom, would you?"

Patrick stared at him.

"I'm sorry," John said. "That's not fair. I know that our business is—"

"It's fine, John," Patrick said. "And yes, I would," he added his voice getting tight. "I would trade it all to have her here with us. I wish I knew what she'd tell you now."

"Maybe the same," John said. His mother had been a pragmatist. "She wouldn't have wanted me to regret either. I'll wait and see how MIT decides. And then I can still think about what else I can do. Maybe I could even ask Rodney if he would consider going to Stanford or Berkeley with me instead."

"You didn't even ask him?" Patrick asked.

"This is what he has wanted to do since I met him," John said.

"You're willing to give up much more for him. Don't you think it would be fair if he gave up a little?" Patrick asked.

John didn't think he wanted this between them. He couldn't stand if Rodney ever threw it in his face that he'd missed his chance to go to MIT for John. And he didn't want Rodney to give up his dream. John could see himself doing different things. Being a flight instructor might not be very exciting, but it he'd be in the air and he would share his love for flying with others. There were always opportunities for learning. Studying Aeronautical Engineering was not the only thing that John would enjoy.

It certainly wasn't what going to MIT was for Rodney.

"I'll think about it," John said, though. Maybe he could at least _ask_ Rodney what he thought about attending the other universities. He _had_ applied to them after all.

And his father was certainly right that it was an important decision. Just not necessarily the most important of his life.

~~

John hadn't asked Rodney about the other universities by the time Rodney turned eighteen.

He bought a huge cake for Rodney because he knew Rodney's mother wouldn't. He cut some off for Jeannie, then he and Rodney went to Rodney's room, stuffing their faces with it.

After half the cake was gone, they lay down on the bed, stuffed. John turned to Rodney and looked at him.

"You haven't changed your mind about waiting until you're twenty-five?" he asked.

Rodney turned to him. After a few moments, he said, "No."

"That took a while to say," John pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"I have to admit the idea of being husbands at MIT from the get-go is tempting," Rodney said.

"But not tempting enough," John concluded.

"Exactly," Rodney said. "We'll still be together," he reminded John.

"I know," John said. "And I'm really looking forward to living with you." He fondly remembered their months in Canada. They did occasionally sleep over at the other's place on weekends, but living together, going to bed, getting up, and everything in-between every day was different.

"We might not be able to," Rodney said.

"What?" John asked. "Why?"

"They have a first year residency requirement, and you can't pick your roommate. After you've been assigned you can try to share rooms, but only if you got the same building and room type, so there are no guarantees," Rodney explained.

"So if I don't get into MIT..." John trailed off.

"There _is_ family living available for undergraduates...if they're married," Rodney said. "Though that's a lottery too."

"Oh," John said. He really didn't relish the thought of visiting Rodney on campus if he didn't make it into MIT. Now would be a really good time to bring up if Rodney was open to other options. "When do you sign up for the housing lottery?"

"First two weeks of June," Rodney said.

"You've already confirmed you'll enroll, I suppose," John said carefully.

Rodney looked at him. "I have until May 1st."

"So you haven't?" John asked.

"There's no need to rush," Rodney said.

There was also no reason to delay the confirmation if you were 100% certain you'd go. Unless you did consider picking one of the other schools after all.

"John," Rodney said. "You want us to go to Berkeley or Stanford, don't you?"

"I want to go to MIT with you," John said. "But if I can't...I'll go wherever you are."

"So you'd what?" Rodney asked.

"I've been accepted to BU," John said.

"Did you tell them you'd go?" Rodney asked.

"There's no need to rush," John repeated Rodney's words with a self-deprecating smile.

"You didn't answer my question," Rodney said, "about going to Berkeley or Stanford."

"I know," John said, dropping his gaze. "I want you to be able to go to MIT."

"You want us to get married, but you can't even answer a simple question," Rodney said.

"The question might be simple but the answer is not!" John said. "You _did_ apply to the other universities as well. Was that only in case you got really unlucky or are they honestly options for you?"

"If they weren't options, I wouldn't have applied," Rodney said.

"Are they still an option now that you've been admitted to MIT, though?" John asked.

Rodney was quiet for a long moment. "You're right. The answer _isn't_ simple."

John snorted. "I didn't want to ruin your birthday."

"You brought me cake," Rodney pointed out.

"That I did," John agreed. "And we still have some."

"God, no," Rodney said. He looked at the juicy chocolate filling. "Well, maybe a little piece."

John laughed.

~~

The next weekend they were at John's place working on the model plane that John had started in order to have his own project to talk about in his application. They made very good progress, and John decided a test flight was in order.

"It's not going to be stable," Rodney said.

"We'll see," John dismissed his concerns. The biggest challenge in the project had been to stop Rodney from completely taking over. This was _John's_ baby, and if it landed a bit roughly, so be it.

The plane took off, flying high in the air, making John grin.

"It's going to crash," Rodney sing-songed.

John flew a few rounds in which the plane did behave a bit erratically—until it suddenly dove down to Earth. "Shit," he said, rushing towards the landing site to assess the damage.

Rodney came closer as well, biting his lip, presumably to keep from saying, "I told you so."

John picked up the plane. They'd done the test on grass, so the impromptu landing hadn't done much damage. "Still as good as new," he declared.

"And it actually did fly. Better than I would have expected," Rodney conceded.

Which was high praise coming from Rodney. John grinned.

"You should send an update on your application," Rodney commented.

John's grin slipped away. "Yeah, I should do that."

"You _know_ that we need to make a decision," Rodney said.

"Yes," John said, sighing. He cleaned bits of grass from the plane, before walking back to the house.

Back in John's room, Rodney said, "We should talk about what we're going to do."

"I told you I can go to BU," John said, placing the plane down and taking his time to put away the tools.

"Or you could go to Stanford or Berkeley," Rodney pointed out.

John finished tidying the table they'd used as a workbench and turned to Rodney. "You _know_ you want to go to MIT."

"Yes, I do, but since we made the decision to spend the rest of our lives together, it's not just up to me," Rodney said.

"I said I'm okay with—"

"Yes, you did." Rodney didn't even let him finish. "But that's not how this can work if we stay together. This isn't deciding where to get dinner where one person can shout, 'Hey, I really feel like Italian tonight,' and the other goes, 'Fine, whatever,' and then it's a done deal."

"I'm not saying, 'Fine, whatever,'" John protested.

"You're not? But you're certainly not saying what you _want_ either. And don't tell me it's going to BU," Rodney said.

"It _is_ if that's the way for us to be together," John insisted.

"Forget me for a second," Rodney said, "hard as I know that will be." John snorted. "Think about just yourself. We've never met. You applied to all the universities you did and now you have to choose. Which one do you pick?"

"Who are you and what are you doing in my room?" John said deadpan. Rodney gave him a look. "Stanford or Berkeley. Probably Stanford."

"There we go," Rodney said. "Of the schools that accepted you, you want to go to Stanford and of the schools that accepted me—which incidentally are all of them—I want to go to MIT. And we _also_ want to stay together. Since all three of them won't be possible at once, decisions have to be made. And we need to be careful and not take the path of least resistance. If we think we're ready to decide to get married, then we'll be able to work this out like adults."

"I agree," John said. "So let me make my case. You want to go to MIT. You've been dreaming of going to MIT since we met. It's a great fit for you. You'll do amazing things there. I basically avoided thinking about college or university until I had to. And then picked my major by surfing around the site of _your_ preferred university."

"But it's _your_ pick, and you should be able to get the best education you can," Rodney said.

"It _is_ my pick, but unlike you I'm not 100% certain that I'll end up working in that field. I definitely want to get a pilot's license, and I could imagine getting a license as an instructor as well. It could be that I'll appreciate the theoretical background that I'll get at university but will end up wanting to _fly_ more than _build_ planes."

"You can do both," Rodney said.

"Yes, and I will. But I'm not gunning for a job at NASA," John said. "I just want to do something that pays enough to pay the rent and allows me to fly and that I _enjoy_. I don't need to be among the best in the world. I know that I won't be."

"You certainly won't with that attitude," Rodney said. "You're so much smarter than you think. Do you have any idea how hard it is to build a plane from scratch that actually takes off, let alone stays in the air?"

"You helped a lot," John said.

"Only with doing. This is _your_ design, and you deserve all the credit—and the blame for that crash, which I warned you would happen," Rodney said.

John smiled. "We can still build planes. BU might not be Stanford, but if I'm really as smart as you think I am, will going to a different university really change that? Would you turn into an idiot by going to BU?"

"No, but it wouldn't allow me to grow to my full potential as fast as another school would," Rodney said.

"Maybe I don't need that. I can see how I feel about the subject after I got my Bachelor and then we can move on from there. This isn't a _sacrifice_ for me," John said. Though maybe it was a little bit of a sacrifice. But not enough that it was worth forcing Rodney to compromise.

"It feels like a sacrifice," Rodney said. "I wish I could say there is no difference between MIT and Stanford, but there is. But the difference between them is so much smaller than the difference between BU and Stanford. Even if you never regret that decision for a second in your life, I'll always wonder how I could ask this of you and what this decision cost you."

"I feel the same about you not going to MIT," John said. "You just admitted yourself that there _is_ a difference. How often will you think about how it would be if you'd gone to MIT? How often will you look at me and think about what you had to give up to be with me?"

"Stanford is hardly a backwater college," Rodney said. "I'll be as brilliant there as I'd be at MIT."

"You'll be brilliant anywhere," John said.

"Naturally," Rodney said with a smirk. Then he got serious again. "It _will_ be different, and it _will_ be a change of plans, but much of my focus on MIT was that I didn't have to consider other schools. Now I _do_ , and from a purely logical point, both of us going to Stanford will be better in terms of combined learning potential than me going to MIT and you going to BU."

"But we have to weigh what that potential for learning means to each of us," John said. "The slight edge MIT has might be worth it if you consider that it's much more important to you than to me."

Rodney sighed. "And then there's the third option. You could go to Stanford, I could go to MIT, and we could see if our relationship works long-distance, and if it doesn't we can ask to transfer. If it does, we could still see each other during breaks, and chat every day, and both get the best education we can."

"Or we might grow apart. You'll get caught up in life at MIT, I'll get caught up in flying, and suddenly we realize that we've gotten used to being alone," John said.

"If that really happens, maybe that's how it was meant to be, and we can finish it properly," Rodney said.

"A clean cut," John said, terrified. "Is this what you really want? Do you want to have a chance to begin a new life without the baggage of your old high school boyfriend hanging around your neck?"

"No!" Rodney said. "I don't want to lose this. And that's the thing you don't seem to want to understand. Yes, I wanted to go to MIT for years, but now I want other things too. I'll be brilliant no matter where I go. But I'm not sure I'll _ever_ get a chance to be with someone like you. Sometimes I still can't believe how lucky I am. I can always count on my mind, but I can't count on anyone else not thinking that I'm an arrogant asshole."

"That's because you are," John said.

"But you still love me," Rodney said. "And that's...extraordinary. That's certainly worth much more than the small difference between MIT and Stanford, so here's what we're going to do."

"Rodney," John began to protest.

"Nanana," Rodney stopped him. " _You're_ going to let Stanford know that you accept their offer. _I'll_ ask MIT and Stanford for an extension. If they know what's good for them, they'll grant it, just to have another chance of having me as their student. Then we can wait until MIT publishes who of their wait list is admitted and we'll either _both_ go to MIT or _both_ go to Stanford."

"Rodney," John said again. "I don't want you to give up your dream."

"I won't," Rodney said. "The bachelor is only the beginning. With master's degrees and PhDs, I'll have plenty of chances to go to MIT. Hey, maybe after going to Stanford for a couple of years I won't even want to go elsewhere. Or I could take the opportunity to be an alumni of Stanford _and_ MIT. Hell, we can throw in Berkeley as well."

John had to admit that he hadn't considered that Rodney could go to MIT as a graduate student. They'd certainly offer him a spot as they did now. "Are you—"

"Yes, I'm sure," Rodney said. "Now go update your application while I write a letter asking for extension."

"What if they _don't_ give it?" John asked.

"Then Stanford it is," Rodney said dramatically. "California, here we come."

John had to smile. Rodney didn't like sun, beaches, or fakeness. It was hard to imagine him eager to go to California. But then it wasn't California so much as a well-respected institute of higher learning with his fiancé. And hearing Rodney talk like this made John believe that it _would_ be okay and was the best they could do with the options they had.

And there still was the wait list at MIT with John's name on it.

~~

At the end of April, Patrick asked John if he'd made a decision yet.

"I've accepted Stanford's offer," John said. Patrick looked surprised then smiled. "Rodney _convinced_ me," John added. He didn't want his father to think that he'd come to the conclusion that his education was more important than his life partner.

"And Rodney?" Patrick asked.

"Has asked for an extension to make his decision," John answered. "If I get accepted to MIT after all, we'll go there."

"And if you don't?" Patrick asked.

"We'll both go to Stanford," John said.

"So he agreed that would be the best course of action?" Patrick said.

"He _insisted_ ," John said.

Patrick looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'm glad the person you intend to marry has your best interests in mind."

"He loves me," John said.

"It certainly seems so if he's willing to change plans that he's made such a long time ago," Patrick said.

Rodney wasn't just willing to change his plans, he seemed to embrace the idea of going to Stanford. Ever since they'd made their decision, he talked about the research facilities, bombarding John with information on the telescopes, observatories, and SLAC.

He made it sound so great that John was torn on what he really wanted.

John knew that part of it was psyching himself up for Stanford. Rodney certainly wasn't a glass is half full person—quite the opposite—but he was quick to adapt at least when it came to intellectual challenges, and he'd managed to turn this into one it seemed. Or he'd simply committed himself to his declaration that this was the most rational decision to maximize the benefit for both of them.

But as the day drew closer where MIT would announce who of their wait list—if any—would be accepted after all, John felt Rodney's nervous energy. Rodney started checking the MIT website even though in the previous years the announcement had always been on the 15th.

John tended to be easily swept up in Rodney's energy about something, but this time he felt a calm taking hold of him.

He remembered how he'd avoided facing his future, both when it came to his relationship with Rodney and his education. Rodney had been the polar opposite with a very clear idea of were he'd go to university—and that it would be without John.

In the end they had both been forced to adjust, and John felt a bit more comfortable making decisions. Not because he was sure it was the right one, but because he now realized that there was no such thing. Circumstances changed, and you could only ever do what felt right at the time.

He'd also learned that there wasn't one way to do something. The way he'd screwed up things with Rodney, had made him feel that it wasn't serious, that it was only convenience, the way he'd made him feel that it wasn't _love_ could have been the end of them if Rodney hadn't forced him to face his feelings. Then he'd asked for too much when he'd wanted to get married as soon as they turned eighteen.

John still wasn't sure if they'd actually wait until they were twenty-five. Maybe once they'd graduated at Stanford, they'd feel like it was the right time. Or maybe they'd come to the conclusion that they preferred being together without any official stamp of approval from the government. It was all possible.

Would he work to design spaceships or airplanes, or would he teach flying, or would he do something entirely different that he hadn't even considered before? Who knew? It didn't really matter. He'd make the best decision he could, and if things didn't go as planned, he'd make a new decision which would hopefully make everything better.

With that knowledge in mind, whether or not he'd be accepted to MIT suddenly didn't seem so important anymore.

On the fifteenth, when they'd driven home to John's place and Rodney was about to look at the MIT website for about the hundredth time that day, John put his hand on Rodney's smart phone.

"Put that away for now," John suggested.

"I don't how you can be so calm," Rodney said. "You should be checking your account. They'll put it there _before_ announcing it on the blog I'm sure."

John took a deep breath. "Let's go for a walk."

"A walk?! What's going on? Oh god. You already got your results, right?" Rodney asked. "And you're not in, so you want to let me down gently. Or you _are_ in and you want to let me down gently now that we've gotten used to the idea of going to Stanford. Or your changed your mind altogether."

"Rodney, breathe," John said before Rodney could start hyperventilating. "I _haven't_ changed my mind, and I haven't checked my account today at all."

"Why not?!" Rodney asked.

"Let's just go for a walk," John said, getting out of the car.

"You're crazy," Rodney said, following him out. "Or you want to drive _me_ crazy."

"Is it working?" John asked with a smirk, walking in the general direction of the stables.

Rodney gave him a dark look but followed. "Seriously, what are we waiting for?"

"It's a beautiful day today, don't you think?" John asked.

"Argh, what have I done to deserve this?" Rodney growled.

John laughed. Then he pulled Rodney closer and kissed him on the cheek, before walking on.

"If you _haven't_ changed your mind, you'll have to look at your account," Rodney said. "We'll have to send out our final decisions as soon as possible. We'll have to apply for housing and meal plans and—"

"I know," John said. "And I will. Let's just take a few minutes to enjoy this moment."

"How am I supposed to enjoy this moment, when our very future has been decided but you don't want to take a look at your damn account?" Rodney asked.

"No, it hasn't," John disagreed. He stopped, looked around at the grass, and lay down.

"Did I do something?" Rodney asked, looking down at him. "Is this punishment for something? Whatever it was, I'm sorry!"

"It's not punishment. Come here for a moment," John said, reaching for Rodney's hand and pulling until Rodney lay down next to him. "The sky is really clear today. I bet you can see the stars perfectly tonight."

"Is this how long you're gonna wait until you check your account?" Rodney asked.

"We've already made our decision," John reminded him.

"Based on the outcome of your spot on the wish list," Rodney said.

"MIT or Stanford. It'll be great and challenging either way," John said. "And we'll be together. We'll meet great people." After a moment, he added, "Maybe we'll even meet someone who—"

"Don't say it," Rodney interrupted him.

"Aren't you the one who always insists on being rational and realistic?" John asked. "There is a chance that—"

"That we'll stay together for the rest of our lives," Rodney finished.

"Didn't _you_ say that was unlikely?" John asked.

"Well, in general people don't end up with their high school sweetheart. But then many don't even have a high school sweetheart or they have several. And even of those that are comparable to us—not that anyone could ever compare to us—some decide to end it before moving on with their lives. So the basis shouldn't be all people, but rather people who realized that their high school sweetheart—and I should stop calling it that; let's make it boyfriend—that their high school boyfriend is their life partner. Going from that basis the chances are a lot better," Rodney said.

"I'm glad statistics turned in our favor," John said fondly.

Rodney gave him a serious look. "I don't care about the numbers. For _you_ I'm willing to take any chance I have. The odds of meeting someone who's smart and hot and funny and attracted to me and not turned off by my personality were..."

"And yet you were willing to let me go," John pointed out, remembering how much that had hurt.

"I was afraid that I loved you so much that I'd let you do anything even if it wasn't what I really wanted," Rodney said.

"At least it made me realize how I felt," John said, smiling. He put a hand on Rodney's hip and leaned in for a long kiss. He sighed happily when they parted, lying back down and looking at the sky. "We get to do this every day for the rest of our lives if we want to," he said. "I'll get to fly. And maybe build my own plane. And you'll change the world. Isn't that amazing?" He turned to Rodney.

Rodney bit his lip. Then he said, "Yes, it is." He didn't look as awestruck as John felt though.

"You want me to check my MIT account, right?" John guessed.

"Please," Rodney said with big eyes.

John snorted but pulled his smart phone from his pants. This was his future. It was going to be glorious—whatever it turned out to be.


End file.
